Two by Two
by jenwin23
Summary: Set after S01E08 - Day Trip: After Raven restores communication with the Ark, The 100 are anticipating the arrival of drop ships and help surviving winter, but the Ark has different plans that leave Clarke, Bellamy and the rest scrambling to figure out how to stay alive and defy the Ark without dying.
1. Chapter 1

**Two by Two**

_Set after S01E08 - Day Trip_

_Raven has restored communication with the Ark. Finn is healing, Bellamy and Clark have made the trip to the FEMA bunker in Washington DC. The kids on the ground are able to talk briefly with their parents, while news of the bombing on the Ark sends shockwaves through camp (despite Jaha's instructions for Clarke to keep the news quiet). Clarke and Raven are the only two who have spoken to the Ark Council over the radio, supplying them with information on ground conditions._

* * *

**Chapter 1**

-The 100-

Clarke scratched at the skin she could reach around her wristband, the metal transmitter an annoyance that most of the camp had gotten used to since they'd crash landed on the ground in what had formerly been Virginia, part of the United States, believed to be one of the countries to strike first firing nuclear weapons at several of their enemies military bases in the early days of the war that had ended life on earth- at least life as anyone had known it.

She listened as one of the Ark Councilmembers droned on about their ideas for protecting the Ark population from the Grounders once they landed. Clarke tried to listen, tried to care, but they were talking about trained guards, guns, and alarms, things The 100 didn't have much or any of. "I think you'll find that conditions on the ground are not as easily controlled as the ones in space, Councilor," Clarke said briskly, her ability to feign politeness a mere memory. "What works on the Ark won't work here."

There was silence, then Jaha spoke in a calm reasoned tone. "We thank you for your input, Clarke, but-"

"But you've been on the ground for three weeks," the councilor that had been speaking originally said condescendingly, "you are hardly an expert on organizing a society, while we have generations of experience. I think we know what we're doing."

Clarke gritted her teeth together but managed to keep her mouth shut. Raven walked past and offered Clarke a sympathetic look.

"I think that is all for today, thank you for your time," Jaha said regally, dismissing the council, short one member since Abby had been evicted, with Diana taking her place, before Diana attempted a coup and ended up taking the only drop ship ready for departure with a band of her fellow conspirators. "Clarke, if you will remain for a few minutes more."

He framed it like a question, but Clarke knew a command when she heard one. She saw her mother come into the council chambers, passing behind Jaha before appearing on camera sitting beside him in her old seat.

"Clarke," Abby breathed, her eyes soaking in the sight of her child. "How are you?"

"No medical emergencies to report," Clarke said in wooden tones.

"Clarke," Jaha said in a gentle tone, "I know you're upset with your mother and I over what happened, but having just lost my son, let me advise you not to let old misunderstandings get between you and your mother. You're family."

Clarke stared at the camera wanting nothing more than to walk away before she started screaming at them. Family? What did they know about family? They'd killed her father for wanting to tell the truth, sentenced her to solitary confinement and would have floated her, but instead had sent her (and Jaha's own son) to Earth to die. Her chest moved up and down rapidly as her breathing grew erratic with emotion, but she forced herself to speak calmly. "If we have more to discuss, I'd suggest we get to it. I have patients to treat and the batteries for the radio don't store much power."

Abby looked heartbroken and Raven frowned at Clarke behind her back, wondering what it was that had made Clarke so angry at her mother. From Raven's perspective, Abby was pretty awesome as a person and a mom.

"Perhaps tomorrow," Jaha intoned lightly, placing his hand on Abby's and squeezing it lightly. "Despite the council's opposition, I thought it best to inform you that the soonest we will send another drop ship will be April."

Her shock at his decree sent the tension rushing out of Clarke's jaw nearly sending her chin to the ground. "What? That's six months!" Jaha said something, but Clarke didn't hear it, her mind racing as she tabulated the additional supplies they'd been counting on from the Ark to help them get through winter. "You said two months, which is one month from now."

"We recalculated."

"You-" she started to say in incredulous anger.

"Arriving in winter is not ideal. In the spring food will be plentiful and we will have six months to prepare for our first winter on the ground," Jaha said confidently.

"And if we all starve or freeze to death it's no skin off your backs, right? And if you have to cull hundreds more people? I guess that's not big deal to you either," she said bitterly.

"Difficult decisions have to be made, Clarke. As the leader of The 100, I'm sure you've already discovered that."

"I'm not-"

"We have decided, and now you know. If you don't wish to speak to your mother, then perhaps now is a good time to end this communication."

Clarke stared at the blank screen for several minutes, her mind racing.

"Clarke," Raven said softly, drawing the blonde's gaze.

"Can you believe them?" Clarke sputtered.

"I don't think the situation is exactly what you think it is," Raven said.

"Don't tell me you agree with them. They're sentencing hundreds of people to death."

"Probably closer to a thousand," Raven said matter-of-factly. "They're aren't enough drop ships for all of them." Once again Clarke felt like her brain had shorted out and her chin had become unhinged from her jaw. "Each drop ship is a slightly different design, but most can only hold about 150 people. Add in supplies and it's closer to a hundred. They lost one to the rebels, leaving them only six more ships."

"How do you know this?" Clarke asked roughly.

"When I was working on the pod with your mom, she talked a lot about what was going on. I listened," Raven said simply. "Whether they cull the population now or leave the extras to die on the Ark, the end is the same. Most of the people up there now are never going to set feet on the ground."

Clarke shook her head, not wanting to believe Raven's words, but knowing she must be right.

-The 100—

That night Clarke relayed the news to Bellamy, who while bitter, took the news much more in stride than she had.

"What do we do?" she asked, sitting on the guard post above the fence next to him as his shift came to an end.

"There's nothing we can do."

"I mean, do we tell them?" She gestured towards the kids surrounding the campfire, their smiles and laughter evidence of their high spirits, still under the impression that the Ark was coming down to help them.

"About the delay or the fact the most of their parents won't be coming?" Bellamy asked darkly.

Clarke shook her head, looking more lost than Bellamy had seen since they'd found Wells' dead body outside of camp.

He bumped his shoulder against hers lightly, drawing her attention and hopefully diverting her dark thoughts. "We tell them that there's a delay, that's all."

"But they'll know! They know that life support on the Ark is failing, that there's not enough air for all of them, they'll know what that means," she whispered furiously.

"You're giving them more credit-"

"Monty will know, Octavia will know, and lots of the others, they're not stupid!"

Bellamy raised one eyebrow, either at her yelling at him or her assertion of The 100's average intelligence. He held her gaze for a minute then nodded. "Then we tell them everything. Then we keep them busy preparing for winter, too busy to dwell on it."

Clarke frowned, but nodded her agreement.

-The 100—

Clarke had thought that the news about the drop ships and the additional culls that would happen on the Ark was the worst news possible. She'd been wrong.

"Clarke, this is a delicate subject, but we need to address it calmly and rationally," Jaha stated, his words putting her back up immediately. "Given that approximately only 500 of us will be coming to the ground in six months, and considering the necessary balancing of knowledge, experience and health, the Council has voted that The 100 begin repopulation efforts now."

Clarke sat silently, blinking stupidly at the camera, certain that she misunderstood or misheard.

"You have got to be joking," she said unevenly, a rush of adrenalin and fear making her jittery and anxious.

"Clarke, I understand your reluctance-"

"I don't think you do," she disagreed. The faces of The 100 flashed in her mind. Some were actual criminals- thieves, rapists, others had broken the Ark's rigid rules, making them unlikely to agree to such outlandish orders, and then there were the kids, six of them were 15 years or younger, including four girls.

Jaha continued as if she hadn't spoken "-but this is an order, not a suggestion," Chancellor Jaha said in a reasonable tone, making Clarke even more tense.

If the Council didn't even see that ordering teenagers who were barely surviving to breed was short sighted and beyond intrusive, then what hope did The 100 have of maintaining other basic freedoms that they had only recently experienced but would not give up willingly to the Ark, not now, and not in six months.

"We don't have to do what you say, we're here, we're free, your authority means nothing to us," Clarke said passionately, her normal level-headedness and calm thought process still in disarray from the idea of ordering 14 and 15 year old girls to get knocked up because the Ark ordered it, not to mention that Clarke was included in the order. "You sent us to die, if you think-"

"We sent you to live," Jaha interrupted. "It was your mother's plan to send The 100 to Earth," he said gently as if Clarke was still the girl he had known who respected authority and believed in her parents' judgment absolutely. But he was wrong. That girl had been replaced by another. Smarter, tougher, and not willing to let injustices pass unnoticed.

"You can't think that I, or anyone else down here with half a brain, would believe that? You sent us without even a simple med kit, no water, not even containers for water, no food, not even a day or two's worth, in case we couldn't access Mt. Weather- which we couldn't. You sent us to test the radiation, nothing more, and now you think you can just-"

"It's not a request, Clarke, it's an order," Jaha said regally, as if his authority alone was enough to justify what they were asking.

Clarke shook her head, denying the order even as her mind raced and her stomach heaved.

"The wristbands do more than monitor your vitals, they are equipped with poison. If you, or any of the others refuse to obey, you will die," Marcus Kane, the council member in charge of Ark security said without apology.

Clarke gasped at the violation, made worse by the fact that her mother had likely designed the wristbands and failed to inform Clarke to the danger. Clarke's expression was horrified as she remembered the first few days on the ground when Bellamy had encouraged the others to remove the shackle and cast off the Ark's authority. Clarke was suddenly thankful that the wristbands had proved so difficult to remove, only one boy managing to pry his off only to die suddenly. Now Clarke knew why.

"You haven't learned anything from human history have you? With the push of a button you would kill us for not doing your bidding?"

"We are striving for the survival of the human civilization, in the grand scheme of things one life is insignificant," Kane said.

"Unless it's your life, or your fathers, or your son's, or your friend's. Oh right, even then you don't care," Clarke said accusingly, shaking her head, fighting down the nausea in her stomach.

"We'll give you two days to inform the rest of The 100, after that we expect to see that you've acted on our orders," Jaha said.

"What does that mean?" Clarke asked cautiously even as the answer popped into her head. "The wristbands. They monitor our vitals. You'll watch us," she cried. "You're disgusting."

"We're doing what is necessary for -" Jaha said impatiently.

"You're raping us!"

"No," Abby said, finally joining the conversation. She'd been voted back onto the council in an emergency vote, despite a few council members' objections.

"You're ordering us to have sex, have babies against our will, what else would you call it?"

"Your chance to be pardoned," Jaha said blandly.

"You said we would be pardoned if we survived earth," Clarke said bitterly, shaking her head again, dread settling over her in a way even her father's death hadn't brought about. She was trapped. They all were.

Clarke heard her name being shouted and took the chance to end the conversation. "Something is happening, I have to go."

"Two days Clarke, don't test our patience."

Clarke paused. "I'm not in charge here, I don't have the ability to force anyone-"

"Convince them," Jaha said.

"It shouldn't be too hard," Kane interjected. "Life or death, your choice."

Clarke swallowed hard and flipped the switch to cut the connection.

-The 100-

Once the immediate crisis (a burned arm) had been dealt with, Clarke gathered Bellamy, Monty, Raven, and Finn on the top floor of the drop ship. As the last of them climbed through the hatch, Clark closed it and turned to look at them, her expression one of desperation.

"What is it? Just spit it out, Princess," Bellamy demanded.

"We need to disable the radio, make it look like an accident or malfunction," she rushed to speech.

"What? Why? I just got it working," Raven protested.

"Tomorrow we need to exhume the bodies, remove the wristbands, find out how to get them off safely. Monty, you were trying to figure out how to use them to communicate with the Ark. What did you lear-"

"Exhume the bodies?" Finn asked in horror.

"Clarke!" Bellamy shouted, silencing her. "What the hell happened?"

"They… The council has ordered us to pair up. To have babies," Clarke said her voice rough as she pushed the words out. "And if we don't, they'll kill us. The wristbands…" Her gaze met Bellamy's. "You were right, we are still their prisoners. They're never going to let us go. We'll never be free."

"We're free, Princess," Bellamy said gravely, stepping forward and taking hold of her shoulder, squeezing it gently. "They don't know it yet, and we're not free and clear, but we will be." He looked from Clarke to Finn and Raven, then Monty before his dark eyes landed on the shaken up blonde again. "Finish it."

Clarke told them repeating it and trying to tell them Jaha and Kane's exact words as much as possible.

"So they didn't assign pairs? How generous," Bellamy mocked.

"Will they really do it? Will they really pull the trigger?" Monty questioned, worry thick in his tone.

"They floated 320 people," Raven said, wondering if anyone she knew had been chosen for death. "They'll float more than twice that before they come down."

"They sent us to die, they won't have any problem in killing us off until we fall in line," Clarke said, meeting Bellamy's eyes.

"The Ark is about survival at any cost," Finn said. "Our lives only matter to them as long as we serve their purpose, our happiness and emotional well-being don't factor in at all." It was an oddly distopic opinion for someone so prone to overt optimism.

"They gave us two days," Clarke said bleakly.

"Don't back down now, Princess," Bellamy said in a tone meant to put her back up. "You brought us up here spouting off plans, so now that we know what those fuckers are up to, let's figure out our plan. No more communication with the Ark, no more orders. And we find out how to get the wristbands off."

"We can't kill the radio outright," Raven disagreed. "They could off all of you as punishment." Only she and Bellamy didn't have wristbands primed with poison. And while she'd come to respect him in the week she'd spent on the ground, in no way did she want it to be her and him against the grounders.

"Or just enough of us to get us to buckle under," Bellamy said, anger resonant in his voice. His sister had been locked up her whole life because the Ark wouldn't allow a second child under any circumstances, and now they were ordering her to breed or die?

"We fake it, pretend to go along with them," Clarke said, her voice steady now.

"What good will that do?" Bellamy questioned. "We need to get the wristbands off."

"It won't be easy, and it will take time," Monty said reasonably.

"Clarke's right, we buy time, work on the wristbands, then, when another storm comes," Raven said with a slight smile.

"We can use it as cover to disable the comms," Monty finished her thought, seeing Clarke and Raven nodding in agreement.

"Then the next question is how do we fake it?" Finn asked and the others smiled in a brief moment of levity as they all imagined a few ways to fool the vitals monitoring.

Ever serious, Clarke worked the problem through her mind, including her extensive medical knowledge. "Simple physical activity, running or jumping in place, will raise the heart rate, but if too many of us just do that-"

"It goes from looking like bad sex to insubordination," Bellamy said.

"Our best bet is masturbation," Clarke said, forcing herself to look around the group, meeting each of their eyes. "But we'll need partners to peak at approximately the same time."

Bellamy raised one eyebrow. "Who knew our Princess was so kinky and sneaky."

"This is serious Bellamy, have you considered that there are four girls here who aren't even 16 years old yet? What we're asking them to do?"

Bellamy cut a hard look at her. "Pretty hard to forget that my sister is one of those girls, she's barely 17, but age doesn't matter here. We're not doing what they say. We have a plan, now let's make sure we're ready to execute it."

* * *

_Words __3032_

_-This has been sitting around half written for a few months, and since updates to the Bellarke fics I'm following have slowed down, I felt the need for a new story. Please review if you like it…_


	2. Chapter 2

_Set after S01E08 - Day Trip_

_Raven has restored communication with the Ark. Finn is healing, Bellamy and Clark have made the trip to the FEMA bunker in Washington DC. The kids on the ground are able to talk briefly with their parents, while news of the bombing on the Ark sends shockwaves through camp (despite Jaha's instructions for Clarke to keep the news quiet). Clarke and Raven are the only two who have spoken to the Ark Council over the radio, supplying them with information on ground conditions. Assessing the situation on the ground and in space, Jaha and the council decide to remain in space until Spring (necessitating the culling of hundreds more people) and order The 100 to pair up and start repopulating the Earth. _

* * *

**Chapter 2**

-The 100—

Telling the camp what was happening wasn't easy and for a moment it looked like they would turn on Clarke since she was the closest thing they had to the Ark Council. "That's enough," Bellamy called out in a guttural shout that demanded compliance. "Clarke is not your enemy, the Ark is. We need to focus on what we're going to do now. They think they're still in charge, but we know differently!"

"What can we do?"

"They'll kill us!"

"I can't have a baby here!"

"We've survived on the ground for nearly a month now. We've come together to accomplish things they never thought we would. Things even we doubted. But we're still here. We're still standing, and we will not bow down to the Ark now, or ever again!"

There were roars of approval, and Clarke expected Bellamy to lay out their plan, but he looked to her, and she realized he was letting her step forward. He was the resistance, she was the one with a plan. Together they would lead The 100 clear of the mess the Ark wanted to force on them.

"We're working on how to get the wristbands off," she said, her clear voice carrying easily. "Do not try to take them off yourselves, or you will be killed. Anyone with a background in engineering or mechanics should find Monty or Raven tomorrow. We need everyone here to pull together on this one."

She glanced at Bellamy who was standing a foot behind her, his arms akimbo, looking over the assembled teenagers. "We need to keep focused on preparing for winter, the Ark may kill us, or they may not, but freezing temperatures and starvation will. No one will be forced to have a baby they don't want. Not here, not on our guard. If you have questions you can come find me tomorrow-"

"Save your questions until tomorrow at campfire," Bellamy interrupted. "We'll answer whatever we can. Now, get to bed unless you have guard duty. We've got a lot to do in a short amount of time."

They'd begun building permanent structures, different types, based on available materials and as an experiment to see which lasted and which was warmest. Clarke had sketched the plans as described to her by anyone with any knowledge of building and primitive structures. Since Clarke would sketch between patients, she got plenty of feedback and ideas from kids who never would have approached her otherwise which lead to her taking the sketches to the campfire each night and sharing them.

In her opinion the best idea was to at least partially underground the structures, she had firsthand knowledge that the underground bunkers stayed warmer than the outside temperatures.

-The 100-

The next day, Clarke finished looking after her patients and went looking for Bellamy. Despite their assurances that no one would be forced to have a child they didn't want or pair up for any reason other than personal choice, fighting was already occurring. Clarke had treated three boys with contusions to the face and body, as well as bruised hands and split knuckles, including one of their best builders. After treating a girl with claw marks on her face and arms, and allowing a second girl to hide out in the med bay, Clarke had had enough.

"Miller," she called after not seeing Bellamy after a few minutes of looking. "Where's Bellamy?"

"Outside, he should be done in a bit. I'll tell him you're looking for him."

Clarke frowned. "Is he nearby?"

Miller nodded and approached Clarke, not wanting the whole camp to overhear. "At the graves."

She looked down. It had been her idea to study the wristbands that were on their dead. It was her idea to exhume the bodies, but the reality of it was difficult to accept. She nodded and headed outside. Of course Bellamy had taken the worst task onto himself.

As Clarke neared the graves, she saw that he had taken Wells' wristband off, but cut off the arms of the two kids who had died upon landing. The two who had followed Finn out of his seat.

They all had blood on their hands.

"You don't have to be here for this, Clarke," Bellamy grunted, reburying the two boys that neither of them had ever met.

"Neither do you, you could have gotten someone else to do it."

He cut a look at her and kept working, shoveling dirt over the bodies as she stood silently and watched. She wanted to ask about the others, but she didn't.

Three wristbands were enough to get started. If they needed more, they were there. Atom, Trina, Pascal, Roma, John, and Diggs. She'd barely know them, but Bellamy had. He'd considered Atom a friend, and she knew Roma had been seen on more than one occasion leaving Bellamy's tent.

Bellamy finished and stood upright, flexing his back. It was Fall, the mid afternoon sun still warm enough to be outside in just t-shirts, and Bellamy's was wet with sweat. Picking up a water container and taking a drink before dumping the rest over his head to cool down he turned to Clarke.

Pushing his wet hair back off his face the studied her. "You come out here for a reason, or did you just want to see me, Princess?" he asked, his expression questioning, but the seriousness of their situation didn't stop the gleam of knowing amusement in his eyes as she jerked her gaze back to his face.

Clarke looked him in the eye, pretending that she hadn't noticed the way his damp shirt stuck to his chest, though that was preferable to the fact that he was standing over two severed hands and a wristband he'd taken off her dead best friend.

"Yeah, did you not hear the shouts from inside the wall?"

"Miller can handle it, and I had other things on my mind."

"OK, granted, but they weren't normal fights, Bellamy," she said. Fights were common in the camp with teenage tempers and hormones running wild. "They were fighting over..." her hands fluttered uncomfortably, not sure what to call it.

"Breeding partners?" he asked, supplying the words as he bent over to wrap the newly reacquired wristbands in a dark piece of fabric.

"Let's just say partners, but yes," she agreed with a frown watching him hand off the neatly tied bundle to Drew as he passed on his foot patrol.

Bellamy scowled, thinking over the situation before announcing, "Time to make some new rules, Princess." He picked up his gun, slinging it over his shoulder and motioning for her to follow him into the forest.

Finding a dappled patch of sun and shade under a massive oak tree far enough from camp not to be overheard, but close enough to hear if anything happened, he sat against the tree. Bracing his back against the massive trunk, he immediately leaned forward and pulled off his damp shirt, spreading it out to dry next to him.

She stared at him. "Really?"

"You're welcome to take off your shirt too, Princess," he said with a smirk. "I have my faults but I fully support equal rights for women."

She shot him a sour look. "Oh, right. So you'd be supportive of Octavia-"

"Not a chance," he said quickly, making her smile.

Finally taking a seat next to him, but making sure there were a few inches separating them, Clarke looked out into the forest and wished she had paper and pencils with her. Time to draw for fun, for herself, had been nonexistent in the past week.

"The rules aren't going to be complicated. No fighting," she said.

"We can't ban fighting," Bellamy said dryly. "They're teenage delinquents, we take away their outlet and we'll end up with worse problems."

"Then what do you suggest, oh wise one?" When he didn't answer she turned her head to look at him, seeing that his eyes were closed, his face lifted to the sun. "Did you have freckles on the Ark?"

"What?"

"Freckles, did you have them on the Ark?"

"Some, why?"

"You have more now," she said, smiling at his look of discomfort. Usually Bellamy appeared to be supremely confident of his physical self. "They're... humanizing."

He arched one eyebrow, but let the subject drop. "Tonight at the campfire, we reiterate that there is no need to actually partner up, unless they want to. No girl will be forced to take a partner that she doesn't want," he said.

"Or guy," Clarke added, earning a dry amused look from Bellamy, which she ignored. "We need a way to make sure nobody is being pressured into anything. The girls get the final say in whatever arrangement they agree to. So there's no reason to fight," she asserted.

Bellamy sighed. "They're going to fight, Princess, the guys will work out who gets to approach the more desirable girls in camp among themselves, either with words or fists. You're not going to change that."

"So hypothetically two guys fight over a girl, she has to go with the winner? I don't think so," Clarke scoffed.

"I didn't say that," Bellamy said. "She's free to reject the winner and anyone else, and free to approach anyone she wants. If that guy is not the hypothetical winner," he parroted her word back at her, "he might get his ass beat, but he could still get the girl."

"No."

They argued for a few more minutes, until Bellamy agreed to stop attacks on anyone who had already partnered up. Deciding that they needed a list of partners, both shied away from the thought that the Ark had kept similar lists. "We can use the list to show the Council that we're taking it seriously," Clarke said, adding a benefit to the idea. "With a small population we'd need to track parentage, to avoid inbreeding."

"OK, then, we're set," Bellamy declared making moves to stand up.

"Not quite."

He groaned but sat back against the tree.

"What about people like Liza?"

"Liza can handle herself, I dare any guy to try to force her to do something she doesn't want."

"She's a lesbian, Bellamy. She won't want any guy. She's not going to comply with the Ark. And the younger girls..."

"This problem is already solved, Clarke. Mutual or simultaneous masturbation," he declared, shoving himself to his feet before reaching a hand down to her to help her up. Clarke hesitated for only a moment before putting her smaller hand in his.

-The 100—

That night at the campfire, Monty and Jasper surprised her with a small cup of flaming liquid. She looked from one grinning boy to the other, feeling a smile curve her own features, their sweet silliness a cure to her tiredness. "You made lamp fuel?" she guessed, causing several surrounding teens to laugh.

"It's your birthday, Princess," Bellamy said in amusement, "You're supposed to blow it out."

Clarke's eyebrows narrowed, looking around at Raven, Finn, Octavia and several of the others who were watching in anticipation. She hadn't told anyone when her birthday was, so she had no idea how they knew, she'd barely remembered herself that morning. "OK," she said slowly taking a deep breath.

Before she could blow out the flame (already knowing it wouldn't work, but willing to make a fool of herself if it gave the others some uncomplicated amusement), Octavia rushed at her. "No, you have to make a wish first."

Clarke hesitated, her eyes going to Finn briefly then to Bellamy. She was sure that wishing on a flaming candle (or alcoholic beverage) was about as foolproof as wishing on a shooting star (really an asteroid entering the Earth's atmosphere) or wishing on the flares they'd sent into the sky in a futile atempt to stop the Ark from killing 300 souls.

She smiled sadly and closed her eyes, making a wish for all of them to survive winter and outsmart the Ark. Opening them she took another deep breath and blew, rearing back as flames shot forward from the cup.

She laughed and the camp laughed with her until after three attempts they simply put the fire out by putting another cup over it then handing the now extinguished beverage to Clarke who looked unsure but gamely took a drink. A cheer went up and she sat back to watch as drinks were passed around.

Bellamy stepped up beside her and made the necessary announcements, declaring that the fighting was stupid and needed to stop, then stating the new rules in a no nonsense tone of voice. "No one has to pick a partner, we have a plan. But, if I have to intervene because someone can't handle rejection, you will wish the Ark had floated your ass in space."

-The 100-

A week later, Bellamy was listening in as Clarke reported on their 'progress.' He stayed out of sight from the camera that projected Clarke's image to the Ark, while Octavia sewed together some small rags into a long wrap for sprains and other injuries, and Raven worked on pulling some of the wiring in the drop ship walls.

Clarke gave her report matter-of-factly, relaying information about the weather, available food, and new dangers they'd discovered. She was about to sign off when Jaha dismissed the rest of the council except for Abby.

"Clarke, we need to talk."

"I have nothing more to say," the blonde girl declared.

"You haven't obeyed our orders."

Bellamy frowned, seeing Clarke's angry glare directed at the monitor.

"Honey," Abby said, her dark eyes full of worry and stress. "I know this is difficult-"

Clarke ignored her mother, keeping her eyes on the Chancellor. "No, I haven't. I've been busy, calming children's fears about the dangers of having children on a hostile planet without adequate medical care and promising them that we'll keep them safe , knowing that I'm lying through my teeth the whole time."

"Clarke," Abby tried again. "I know the circumstances aren't ideal, but a child is a blessing. Your father would have loved to -"

"Don't talk to me about him!" Clarke shouted, springing up from her seat, drawing attention from the other two girls present. "Don't you dare try to tell me that Dad would have loved his grandchild. You two killed him! You killed him, and you sentenced me to death and now you think you can make me believe that this isn't another form of servitude? A punishment?"

"I'm 17! I'm not in any way ready or willing to have a family yet," she yelled. "We're just kids, and every day here is a struggle! Everything is dangerous! We're barely getting enough to eat and you don't even care that pregnancies mean we will need more food but will have less people to gather it! You have no idea. None. And I'm done talking to you."

She slammed her hand against the comms unit, cutting the feed.

Bellamy regarded Clarke's angry face carefully, waiting until she'd managed to unclench her fists and calm her breathing. "Clarke, you have to comply with their orders."

"No, we need to know-"

"Know what? If they'll push the button and kill one of us for not doing as commanded?" Octavia scoffed.

"Yes, it could just be an empty threat," Clarke said weakly, clearly not believing her own words.

"It could, though I doubt it. And you are not the person to test that theory," Bellamy shot down her plan.

"Why not?"

"One, because we need you. If they did kill you for not obeying, then we could end up with a lot of pregnant girls here and no doctor. And two, if they didn't kill you, it wouldn't mean that they wouldn't kill anyone else who also refused to obey."

"Because I'm the princess," Clarke said caustically.

"Yes. Exactly. Clarke, look at it this way. If they think you're on board with their bullshit, if they trust you, they might slip up and reveal something important. Something we can use," Bellamy argued.

Clarke saw the logic in his reasoning, but shook her head, her eyes filled with dread. "No, I can't, I can't just…"

Bellamy took in her panic with some surprise. Clarke was usually so cool headed. "What's wrong, Princess? Don't tell me you've never…"

Raven looked down, flashes of Finn and Clarke together easily conjured up by her imagination.

"Of course not," Clarke flushed, looking down, not wanting to catch even a glimpse of Raven, given the topic. "I mean, of course I have, just… it's not… I just…"

"It's OK, Clarke," Bellamy said softly, his voice unusually compassionate.

Octavia looked from Clarke to Raven to her brother. She still wasn't happy with Clarke's involvement in Lincoln's torture, but since the Ark had issued their outlandish edict, Clarke had stepped up to try to figure out a way out of it. She'd also acted early on to protect the younger girls in camp from any unwanted male attention, gathering them to sleep in one tent together, and convincing one of Bellamy's guards to keep an eye out for them when Clarke wasn't around. Clarke had pushed herself to the edge of exhaustion, treating the myriad of injuries that The 100 seemed to collect while exploring the forest for edible and medicinal plants.

"So we need to find Clarke a fake lover in camp, shouldn't be too hard," Octavia cut in, shrugging, disregarding the much of the camp had paired up already in real or fake pairs, and no one had made a move on Clarke (or Octavia) because everyone was afraid of Bellamy's reaction. Their two leaders were close and no one understood when or how it had happened, but the fact that they'd returned from an overnight trip outside of camp with a united front that had held since then had set tongues wagging.

"You're hot," she said to the blonde girl receiving a nonplussed look in return. "Too bad the only guys here you've really gotten to know are Finn, Bellamy, Jasper and Monty," Octavia continued, offering her blunt opinion easily. "And I think Jasper and Monty would be horrified with the whole idea of 'faking' it with you, and Finn's with Raven, so that leaves Bellamy."

Octavia's conclusion drew incredulous looks from both her brother and Clarke, but Raven seemed to consider the idea. "He doesn't have a wristband, so they wouldn't be able to monitor him, so you could just... ya' know," Raven said, her eyes on Clarke.

"We know," Octavia said dryly.

Clarke finally met Bellamy's eyes, hers full of embarrassment, his not expressing any emotion.

As the silence stretched, Octavia's gaze sharpened on her brother. She'd seen him watching Clarke with a curiously tender expression when the other girl wasn't paying attention, and she knew he'd stopped sleeping around since Clark had explained that the birth control included in the women's rations on the Ark would have started to lose effectiveness after a few weeks, so he couldn't be worried about a fake hookup with Clarke effecting his actual booty calls.

"Or not. OK, who are some likely candidates?" Octavia said happily, smiling mockingly at her brother.

"For what?" Raven asked.

"Candidates to be Clarke's fake, or not so fake, lover," Octavia said with a taunting edge to her words. The blush on Clarke's cheeks grew as Octavia continued. "Jones is nice enough. Miller can be sweet when he's not being a jackass. There aren't many blondes around, so she and Drew could hook up, make some adorable blonde babies. Stewart Lennox could serve in that capacity too."

"The whole point of this is that there won't be babies," Bellamy said severely.

"No unwanted babies," Clarke said, thinking of the medicinal plants she and Monty were giving to the girls in camp who were having sex but didn't want to get pregnant, and the few girls who had decided to roll the dice.

"Fine," Bellamy agreed, ignoring Clarke's stunned expression. "I'll play the role. Next problem. Clarke just basically told them to go screw themselves-"

"Yeah, she did," Octavia said proudly.

"How do we convince them that she suddenly changed her mind?" Bellamy asked.

"Monty and I are getting closer to figuring out how to get one of those wristbands off," Raven said. "Someone 'dies," she said, motioning air quotes. "Clarke mourns, then embraces life," she finished sarcastically.

"Will they buy it?" Bellamy inquired doubtfully.

"Not likely," Clarke said.

"A love story," Monty said coming down the ladder from the higher levels of the drop ship, obviously having overheard the conversation.

Octavia clapped her hands excitedly. "Clarke didn't want to pick a random baby daddy, because she's got the hots for Bells."

"Add in a sad death and some mourning," Raven said.

"Maybe some of my moonshine," Monty offered.

"And Clarke is suddenly getting busy and in compliance with the baby Nazis," Octavia finished the tall tale gleefully.

Clarke licked her suddenly dry lips nervously, shooting Bellamy a look of trepidation. "That… might do it."

"They already know that you two are co-leaders," Octavia said. "Your partnership just… deepened."

"I would have loved to see Jaha's face when he realized Bellamy Blake was in charge down here," Raven muttered.

Clarke's eyes met Bellamy's. Jaha hadn't seemed too surprised when she'd told him, but the rest of the council had been in and uproar. Clarke had expected them to demand that Bellamy be stripped of his position, but Jaha had said he had confidence in Bellamy's abilities to protect The 100 as long as Clarke was involved in any and all decisions.

Clarke studied Bellamy's face for some clue as to why he was helping her, but couldn't find any clues there.

* * *

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	3. Chapter 3

**Two by Two**

_Set after S01E08 - Day Trip_

_Raven has restored communication with the Ark. Finn is healing, Bellamy and Clark have made the trip to the FEMA bunker in Washington DC. Assessing the situation on the ground and in space, Jaha and the council decide to remain in space until Spring (necessitating the culling of hundreds more people) and order The 100 to pair up and start repopulating the Earth._

* * *

**Chapter 3**

-The 100—

A few days later the camp population dropped by one. One of the boys had been stung by a bee and gone into anaphylactic shock. With no medicine and no tubing to protect his airway, Clarke could only watch with horror as he started to asphyxiate.

Bellamy brought Monty and Raven in and receiving the sign from Clarke that there was no chance to save the boy, the two techies had quickly disabled the wristband. Delivering an electric shock to the shackle, they'd popped the latch and pulled the band carefully from the boy's limp wrist.

"Did it work?" Bellamy asked roughly.

"The poison capsule… is still intact. It worked," Monty said quietly, looking at the boy who was taking his last labored breaths.

"Now what?" Raven asked.

"Now we start taking off wristbands. Slowly. We can't take them all off at once, so we'll come up with stories… There are plenty of ways to die here," Clarke said resolutely, her eyes haunted.

"The younger girls first," Bellamy ordered. "Say they were bathing together in the river and got caught in the radiation fog," he detailed his plan. "Can we fake the physical distress?"

"Not easily," Clarke said. "Pain from the fog burns would result in adrenalin, irregular heart rate, increased blood pressure in response to the pain, then decreased as the body began shutting down." Her eyes met Bellamy's. "A cut would be too fast, too sharp, not sustained enough."

Bellamy remembered Murphy's cruelty early on, when they'd been trying to take off their wristbands, oblivious to the threat therein. He'd held a girl over the fire, saying that if they couldn't convince the Ark they were dead, they could at least send the message that life on Earth was not easy. "We could burn them," Bellamy said gruffly, the idea of hurting children abhorrent, but still preferable to the alternatives.

Raven looked horrified, Monty no less so, but Clarke nodded her head, dismayed, but agreeing that it could work. "We'd have to get the bracelets off fast, and we'll need to find aloe and some other plants to treat the burns."

"Then do it," Bellamy ordered, walking away abruptly.

"And if they don't want to?" Raven called.

Bellamy turned and met Clarke's eyes and nodded, before disappearing from view. "If they don't want to, they can opt out, and we offer the chance to the next youngest girl."

-The 100—

Clarke's next report to the Council was dominated by the story of how they'd lost four more of The 100. "We have some basic medicine here, mostly from plants and some tree barks, but nothing that can treat allergic reactions on that scale or heal radiation burns," Clarke said stoically. "If you could send a drop ship with supplies…" she suggested, knowing they wouldn't.

"That's not an option. These deaths are tragic, but not unexpected," Jaha said chillingly. "Tell us about the Grounders. Have you found their camp yet? Do you have any idea of their numbers?"

"No…"

Once again, Jaha dismissed the other council members except for Abby. "Are there any pregnancies to report?"

"Not yet," Clarke said. "Without hormonal tests or an ultrasound, it will take several weeks after conception for me to diagnose pregnancy," Clarke said. "Two girls report having missed their menses this month, but that is inconclusive."

"Clarke's right, the stress of being on the ground, lack of food, and the hormonal adjustment of coming off the birth control could all disrupt regular female cycles," Abby concurred. Abby went on to speak about the early symptoms of pregnancy that Clarke should watch for. Finishing, she looked at Jaha, who nodded at her then looked at the camera, facing Clarke again.

"Clarke, we were monitoring your vitals, and have some questions," Abby said gently.

Clarke didn't have to fake a blush, the absurdity and invasion of privacy was enough. Following the most recent death, she'd gotten buzzed on Monty's moonshine and went to her tent alone. Her gaze automatically went to Bellamy where he stood off camera, watching and listening, his arms crossed over his broad chest.

"You…"

"Had sex. Yes. Isn't that what you wanted?" Clarke said harshly, making Abby look away.

"Yes, it is, but the question remains of who you were with, Clarke," Jaha said. "According to Jackson, there were no corresponding vitals."

Clarke took a deep breath and bit the bullet. "That's because I was with Bellamy. And he doesn't have a wristband."

"Bellamy," Jaha repeated, not looking terribly surprised. "Bellamy Blake. I could see that you had a connection with him Clarke, when the three of us spoke. But I didn't imagine this."

"You have to pick a new partner," Abby said.

Clarke frowned, not having expected that. As far as she could tell, Bellamy was a prime physical specimen, and smart too. If they were just interested in increasing the population, he was as good a candidate as anyone else.

"No."

"You have to pick a new partner," Abby repeated in her best 'I am your mother and I know what's best for you' tone.

"No."

"Clarke, raising a baby will be difficult enough without-"

"Abby," Jaha cut her off.

"Without… what?" Clarke asked with a frown.

"Bellamy… he won't make a good father," Abby said.

"He's the only one of us who has any experience raising a child, so I don't see where you're-" Clarke trailed off seeing the look of sorrow on her mother's face. Again her eyes went to Bellamy who had stepped forward when the conversation turned to him.

Clarke's alarm was clear on her face, her eyes wide, mouth slightly parted.

"Tell me you'll pick a new partner, Clarke," Abby begged, not wanting her daughter to suffer any more than she already had.

"It's not that simple," Clarke said hoarsely. They were going to kill Bellamy when they arrived. Abby didn't want Clarke to raise a child without its father.

"It is," Jaha disagreed.

"No," Clarke said just as Bellamy stepped into the camera's view, his hand landing heavily on Clarke's shoulder.

"You're in space and we're on the ground, you're not in charge here, I am. And Clarke is mine," Bellamy said in a tone that would give anyone pause. He stared down into Clarke's eyes, silently ordering her to go along with his play. His hand moved from her shoulder to her neck, cupping her head and tilting her face up for a hard kiss.

The room and the monitor was silent as Bellamy leaned over Clarke, his mouth moving on hers without hesitation. They were supposed to be a couple, and it wasn't his way to be tentative. Bellamy committed fully and unflinchingly to his plans, including the current plan that had him and Clarke pretending to be a couple.

"I was under the impression that you two worked together to lead The 100," Jaha said calmly once Bellamy had ended the kiss, standing up straight again, his hand remaining on Clarke's neck in a blatantly possessive move.

"We do, but... it's true, Bellamy is in charge here, and…" Clarke floundered, still stunned that he'd kissed her without warning. She forced her face into a neutral expression and slid her arm around his waist, leaning into his side.

"And anyone who tries to take Clarke from me would not be able to fulfill your 'orders' with her or anyone else, so unless you want your breed stock population to suddenly decrease, I would recommend that you stop interfering. Clarke has agreed to go along with your plan to have a child, but she is mine and any child she has will also be mine," Bellamy declared harshly. "This conversation is over."

Bellamy flipped the switch to end the feed, and faced Clarke. "What was that about?"

"We need to get Octavia's bracelet off now. Right now," Clarke commanded, springing out of her chair. "Find her; I'll get Monty and Raven."

"It's still too risky," he said, catching her elbow in his hand to stop her from running off. "Tell me what that was."

"They're going to kill you. When they get here. They were trying to spare me from…"

Bellamy didn't react. Not with fear or anger, and Clarke realized he must have never really believed they would let him live. "Calm down, it's OK," he said, his mind working the problem. "They won't kill Octavia. Not yet."

"They will, you just challenged them openly, told them they're not as in charge as they thought-"

"They won't," he said calmly. "They need her to control me. We have time. If she disappeared from their monitors now, it wouldn't take a genius to figure out we took it off."

"Bellamy…" Clarke said, her voice full of anguish. Bellamy had only agreed to pretend to be her sex partner to save her, now that act of kindness had put his sister in danger.

-The 100-

The next day, Monty was working on building walkie-talkies at the communications desk set up just outside of Clarke's med bay on the drop ship. Clarke was reading a book on emergency medical treatments that they had found in the rubble of a home in Berryville. Unfortunately, while Clarke had learned a lot from watching her mother while growing up, the technology that Arc doctors used just wasn't available, so Clarke was frantically trying to figure out how to use what they had and what items they needed to fabricate or find.

Monty looked up, staring at the comms system as if perplexed then he suddenly jumped up and moved to Clarke quickly. "It's a beautiful day outside, we should get some air," he said with an unusual intensity in his voice and expression.

Clarke looked at him curiously. "I'm-"

"Blue skies, some soft looking white clouds, it's really beautiful, Clarke, and since you could be pregnant you should probably try to get some daily exercise and fresh air."

Clarke frowned, but stood up and followed Monty outside.

"What was that about?" she questioned once Monty had stopped several yards outside of the drop ship.

"The comms link to the Ark is open."

"What? No, it's not; we turned it off last night after the last report."

"It's on. Trust me. Somehow they figured out how to hack the signal."

"So they can see and hear everything that is happening in there?" Clarke said in alarm.

"Yeah, I mean it could only be video or sound, I'd have to check, but the drop ship was designed to send data back to them, mostly environmental, but also communications and they would have designed it to have control of it through the satellite up-link."

"They're spying on us," Clarke said slowly. "Can you turn it off?"

"Yeah, probably. When they're out of orbit above us, it goes dark, I could hack in then, not that I'd have much time, maybe 30 minutes," he mused, doing the mental math.

-The 100—

After posting a guard on the drop ship to make sure no one accidentally appeared on camera and let the Ark in on anything they weren't supposed to know, Clarke and Monty relayed the information to the group that had become a new sort of council: Bellamy, Raven, Finn, and Miller (as Bellamy's second in command).

"So we can cut the feed, now, or wait until the storm the Ark is tracking over the Atlantic comes ashore in a few days," Monty said.

"No, don't try to stop the feed, not yet. They obviously don't trust us, don't trust what Clarke has been telling them, they also don't know that we know they're watching, so we use it," Bellamy said, his eyes on Clarke. No one else knew about the complication of their ruse, but he had no doubt that the new tactic from the Ark was a response to their continued resistance.

"Parade couples, patients, happy or worried girls in front of the camera?" Clarke asked.

"Exactly."

"It's not a bad plan," Finn mused.

-The 100-

Later that night after Clarke had counseled an actual couple, pretending to be happy about the prospect of having a baby for the benefit of the camera, Bellamy found her sorting plants in her med bay. Seeing the small blue light that indicated the feed was live, he approached her like a lover would, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind, his larger form hiding that she stiffened in his arms before forcing herself to relax.

"What are you doing?" she said softly, turning around to face him, keeping a loving smile on her face for the benefit of the camera.

"We need to talk," Bellamy said quietly, his mouth brushing her ear making it look as if he was kissing her neck or whispering sweet nothings to her as he rubbed his hands up and down her arms, as if they were used to touching each other.

"Here?"

He shook his head, pulling back from her and speaking at a normal volume, but with a tone that left no doubt what his request really meant. "Meet me in my tent in five minutes," he said causing her to shiver involuntarily. Bellamy smirked at her, his face turned away from the camera, leaving her to sell it to the Ark with another loving smile.

Walking into Bellamy's tent without announcing herself, Clarke put her hands on her hips in annoyance. "Next time you plan to put on a show for the Ark, give me a heads up, would you?"

"That's exactly what I'm doing," he said, facing her. "Random couples and anxious girls won't be enough to convince Jaha that we're obeying his orders. You and I need to sell it. We're the biggest threat to them. If they think we're going along with it, even if we have our own reasons, then their suspicions might fade."

"Our own reasons?"

"Young love. Passionate, crazy, impetuous, intemperate. We need to make it look like our being together is not just real, but is something neither of us could avoid."

"Love, not politics," Clarke murmured. Bellamy nodded his head, not surprised that Clarke understood. "How?"

"Well, I pretty much acted like a raging jackass, saying you were mine, so we could build on that. Have some guy in there with you, I come in, toss him out and..." he shrugged.

"It's the 'and' that worries me."

"We need them to trust you, Clarke. If they're suspicious because of your sex life or lack or sex life, or you choosing me, then we can nip that in the bud right now." Clarke stared at him, discomfort rather than fear or disgust showing in her eyes. "We don't have to have sex-"

"On camera, essentially in front of my mother, her staff and the council? Thanks," she said darkly.

"So we'll make out, then rush off as if we can't control ourselves," he said with forced lightness.

"I guess I should go get started now, right, Honeybunches? After your little display?" she asked, her expression one of sturdy resolve.

"Why don't we take the night off, we'll put together a peep show tomorrow. Have a seat," he offered, waving to his bed.

Clarke was surprised, she and Bellamy were certainly partners, friends, co-conspirators, but they hadn't really hung out casually before. They'd spent time together, but always on a task or with some purpose in mind. Clarke looked at his bed, then at him, and smiled. "OK," she agreed, dropping down into one of two of the drop ship seats that had been hauled into his tent.

"We need to come up with a way to get Octavia's wristband off," she said.

"No work, not tonight, Princess. Don't you ever relax?"

"It's your sister, Bellamy, they could –"

"I've got it under control," he said with a smile. "Trust me."

"I do," she said, but he could see she still wanted to know. Her thirst for knowledge was an asset, as was her analytical mind and compassion, so he shared his plan with her.

"We can't risk taking it off, but Monty thinks he can disable the poison, even drain it," he said, liking that this time Clarke's smile was one of unrestrained happiness as relief flowed through her at his words.

"Then they'd think they had control, but they wouldn't…" Her mind raced as the implications became clear. Without the poison they could disable and remove each wristband without worrying that the Ark would catch on and kill one or several of them to make their point.

She smiled, her whole face lighting up as the possibility of good news, a loosening of the noose around their collective necks. Bellamy smiled back, more sedate than hers, but a smile still. Clarke's thoughts shifted from the group, politics and battle to the simple pleasure of having someone she could count on, someone she could lean on and share the burden with.

-The 100-

The next evening, Clarke was working in the drop ship's med bay alone, by design, when Miller arrived with a cut on his arm.

"Hey Clarke, do you think you could spare some of that seaweed?"

Clarke rushed over to Miller, frowning at the very real injury, having thought the injury would be happenstance or faked, but the cut was real, shallow and clean, but real nonetheless.

"Of course, sit here," she instructed, indicating the metal examining table that had be cut and crafted from an interior wall of the drop ship. Clarke hurried around, gathering the necessary medical supplies, before returning to Miller's side. She knew they were supposed to flirt, and that Bellamy would come in to find them and break it up, but Clarke wasn't sure how to start. Flirting wasn't exactly her specialty.

"I have to wash it out first," she said, unnecessarily, since she'd patched up Miller more than once before. She poured water over the cut slowly, looking up with startled eyes when Miller captured one of her hands in his.

"You have such small, delicate hands. Yet you're so capable," he said, stroking his fingers against her pale palm, as he looked up at her with dark gleaming eyes.

Clarke blinked at him, stupefied. Then he winked at her and her brain moved back into gear. "I guess what they say is true, size doesn't matter," she said archly with a smile.

Miller smirked at her. "You wouldn't be saying that if you really knew me."

She arched one eyebrow, smiling in earnest. "Hmm," she demurred. She bent over his arm to inspect it closer than the cut needed. With her face hidden from the camera, she spoke freely. "Did Bellamy order you to do this?"

Miller grinned, running a strand of her hair between his fingers for the benefit of the Ark's spies. "We drew straws."

"You must be really unlucky," she said quietly while applying the seaweed salve to his cut.

"It's not so bad," he said, looking down her shirt with another smirk. Clarke followed his gaze and pushed his head away, laughing lightly. Miller's eyes moved to the slight jiggle of her breasts before looking away quickly. He needed to play his part, but not so well that Bellamy took exception with him. Or Clarke. He frowned and realized he really was unlucky to have been selected for the job.

Bellamy stood behind the fabric screen that separated the med bay from the rest of the bottom floor of the drop ship watching as Miller flirted with Clarke and Clarke laughed and smiled at his advances. His impulse was to rush in right then, kicking Miller out instantly, but since he'd been the one to nominate his friend, his loyal second in command, for the job, he tried to reason with himself that he should at least let Clarke finish patching him up first.

His jaw tightened and he counted to ten silently as Clarke tied a bandage around Miller's forearm and started on a second, Miller continuing the charade, and pleasing Clarke at the same time if her reaction was anything to go by. Bellamy counted to ten a second time, wondering why it bothered him to see Clarke's rare smiles go to someone besides him. When Miller reached out to twirl another strand of Clarke's hair around his finger, Bellamy abruptly stopped at eight and rushed in.

"Get the fuck out, and you'd better stay out of my sight for a good few days," he said pointing menacingly at Miller.

"I wasn't-" Miller protested.

"Out!" Bellowed Bellamy, pushing his body between Clarke and Miller. Miller needed no further encouragement and fled quickly, not turning back to see what the next act held, because if looking down Clarke's shirt was enough to make Bellamy's eyes promise painful retribution, then watching what he was fairly sure was going to happen next would likely get him hung from a tree for a week.

"What's your problem?" Clark shouted at Bellamy, arguing with him a comfortable rhythm even if the topic was new and contrived.

"My problem?" Bellamy seethed, getting her in her personal space. "He was flirting with you!"

"He wasn't, but so what if he was. He was hurt, we were joking around."

"Are you saying you flirt with every guy who comes in here?"

"And the girls too," she taunted him. Bellamy paused, momentarily losing the thread of the argument, the point of the whole act and she considered Clarke with another girl. "Oh my god, you're such a pig," she said, slapping his arm after correctly discerning his thoughts.

She turned away from him but he stepped up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her neck in a series of soft kisses. "You know I think you're hot, Princess, can I help it if the idea of you and another girl is a turn on?" His voice was rumbling in her ear, his mouth leaving a moist trail down her neck and now across her collar bone, his hands were like two live wires touching her stomach, heating her up and making her nerve endings tremble in anticipation. "Too bad I'm not the type to share," he growled.

Clarke pulled away from him, stepping back in equal parts for show and because she needed to remember that it was a show. "Oh really? I seem to remember –"

He grinned and reeled her back in, until their chests were pressed together tightly. "That was before you, Princess, just a bit of fun." He kissed her forehead, then her cheeks then lifted both her hands and pressed a kiss to each of her palms. "If I remember correctly, you back then you wouldn't give me the time of day, which is just selfish, since you have the only watch down here," he said in a tone that made her very aware of just how easy it had been for him to get more than one girl into his bed. He kissed her wrist under the watch then the other next to her wristband before looking into her eyes. "Now, I would cut off both hands of anyone who dared to touch you, Princess, guy or girl. You're mine."

Bellamy wasn't immune to the press of her body against his, or the wide vulnerable look in her eyes, or the fact that her mouth was slightly parted, invitingly parted, he thought, but he tried to remember that this was an act. A performance for the Ark's watchful eyes.

But as he kissed her, walking her backwards towards the table the served as her exam table and lifting her up so she was sitting on it, her legs automatically widening and wrapping around him, pulling him closer the reality of Clarke in his arms, her tongue in his mouth, her breasts flattened against his chest blotted out the why and how of the moment.

* * *

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	4. Chapter 4

**Two by Two**

**Set after S01E08 - Day Trip**

_Raven has restored communication with the Ark. Finn is healing, Bellamy and Clark have made the trip to the FEMA bunker in Washington DC. Assessing the situation on the ground and in space, Jaha and the council decide to remain in space until Spring (necessitating the culling of hundreds more people) and order The 100 to pair up and start repopulating the Earth._

* * *

**Chapter 4**

Clarke exited the drop ship looking more than a little dazed and flushed. She couldn't shake the feeling that their little ruse had changed her, had changed whatever relationship she and Bellamy had, and therefore had changed things for the camp. But outside, dozens of teens laughed and talked around the campfire like any other night since they'd been on the ground.

"Clarke," Bellamy said roughly, drawing her gaze as he exited the drop ship after her, his cheeks flushed, but otherwise looking pretty much like he always did.

She lifted her chin and looked at him, noting that he wasn't meeting her eyes, his gaze focused on his feet, his hands flexing restlessly. She couldn't help the burst of heat that started in her belly and could only hope that she wasn't blushing.

"It's OK, Bellamy," she said steadily.

He glanced up at her, disbelief etched on his face. "Is it?"

She swallowed hard, but tried to feign nonchalance. "Of course, it's what we agreed to."

He nodded then looked to the side, his eyes automatically looking for and finding the guards on their elevated platforms. "If you're sure. 'Cause we could talk about it. If you wanted." His gaze suddenly swept back to hers, startling her with the intensity she found there. "Come to my tent if you want to."

"To talk," she said, but it sounded like a question, especially since it was accompanied by a quizzical expression. He shrugged one shoulder and Clarke forced a smile. "OK."

Her answer was as ambiguous as his offer, but they left it unsaid between them, neither ready to tip the scales that far. Clarke watched as he walked away from her, lifting his head and straightening his back and shoulders, throwing off whatever tension had resulted from the unintended intimacy they'd just created between themselves and putting on a show for the camp: Bellamy Blake their strong, confident leader who was plotting their course to freedom despite all the challenges that threatened them. Arrogant, tough, unflinching, and nearly unfeeling.

That was what many in camp still thought about him. It was what Clarke had once thought. If she still thought him so cold, heartless and power hungry it would be easier to shrug off what had just happened, but she knew better now. She watched as he approached Miller, the two boys shaking hands, smoothing over any tension between them.

Smiling, Miller moved with Bellamy over to a group of off duty guards, who were shaping knives and spearheads from various bits of metal, glass and rock. Bellamy picked up one knife, tossing it up lightly before catching it again by the blade, testing its weight and balance. He nodded in approval, causing Dell to flush with pride. Bellamy nodded for Drew to step aside and tossed the knife with surprising accuracy into a target they'd pinned to the fence.

Clarke's gaze focused on his hands, strong and deadly, but he was obviously capable of being gentle too.

He'd easily lifted her up onto the table, his grip on her hips firm, his muscled thighs pressing her legs apart. She hadn't been acting when she'd wrapped her legs around his waist, their mouths melded together. He'd kissed her before, but then she'd been reeling from the threat to Bellamy's life and unable to forget their audience. She'd retained only broken impressions. His taste, how his lips managed to be both firm and soft, the heat of his hand on her neck, now easily she'd responded to his seeking tongue. The ark of electricity that ran down her spine.

This time had been different. They'd been alone. And it had been planned. A show for the Ark. That was how it started, but Clarke knew it wasn't how it ended.

She'd known she was losing the thread of the performance as soon as he'd kissed her, and she couldn't blame him for it. She had been the one who'd slipped her hands under Bellamy's shirt, finding firmly muscled flesh. It had been her who had pressed against him, rubbing her chest against his, tightening her legs around him, as if she was trying to merge their bodies into one.

He'd responded, his hands tightening on her hips, pulling her impossibly closer, grinding his pelvis against hers, erasing any doubt that she had the he might be unaffected. Clarke's hands had run up and down his back, appreciating the broadness of his shoulders and the solid muscle that had helped make him the dominant male in camp. He'd reciprocated, his hands slipping under her shirt, kneading her back before moving around to the front, shifting upwards so he was cupping her breasts.

The heat of his hands, the feel of his calloused fingers on her sensitive skin had jolted her, sending a shock through her system, jump starting her brain. She'd pulled her mouth from his with a gasp, even as she arched into his touch, her nipples pebbling under his deft fingers.

Gasping for air, her eyes had met his, read the question there. Did she want him to stop? She could have said yes. She probably should have said yes. They could have slipped away, supposedly to his tent, but really separately, leaving her to perform the final act alone. That had been the plan.

If she'd seen arrogance or smug pride in his eyes, she might have stuck with the plan, but once again vulnerable Bellamy was on display, and Clarke already knew she had a weakness for him when he showed any real emotion besides anger.

As a rule, Clarke tried not to act on impulse. Impulse had led to Charlotte's death. Impulse had led to her taking her flirtation with Finn farther than it should have gone.

But she hadn't hesitated, smiling softly at Bellamy, she'd cupped his face in her hands, feeling the smoothness of his cheeks in juxtaposition to the roughness of his jaw.

Clarke had been the one who pressed her lips to his again, opening her mouth to him as she hitched her legs tighter around his waist. Maybe he was the one who had started stripping off clothing, his shirt and then hers, followed by her bra, leaving them skin to skin, but Clarke didn't blame him. Nor did she regret it. Maybe she would, maybe facing him in the cold light of day she would burn with regret, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but as she stood in the heat of the campfire, lost in her own thoughts, she couldn't regret it.

She hadn't stopped him, hadn't wanted to, not even when his hands had tugged at the button on her pants, his calloused hand drawing a startled gasp from her as he'd touched her intimately.

Clarke was drawn from her thoughts, feeling someone watching her. She turned her head to see that the crowd had thinned substantially, letting her see Bellamy clearly as he walked towards his tent, his gaze locked on her.

-The 100-

The next morning, Clarke approached Bellamy first thing, forcing herself to act normally, inquiring about the hunting trip scheduled for that day. She wanted to go out to gather some more edible plants, but only if a few guards who she trusted could accompany her, Monty, Octavia and a few others who had shown the skill of identifying beneficial plants.

"Can I take Miller?"

"Miller has to stay in camp. You can have Liza," he countered, not looking the least bit uncomfortable talking to her. Though she supposed he had a lot more experience with one night stand type situations. Not that they'd had sex, just gotten close. It was a distinction that Clarke was trying to convince herself was important.

"No thanks. Liza looks at me like she'd like to strangle me. Slowly."

He frowned. "Derek and Drew."

Clarke sighed. "They don't listen. Not just not to me, not to anyone."

"They listen to me."

"Because you might punch them if they don't. I don't really have that brand of persuasion," she said while smiling. "Give me Harper-"

"No."

"Why?" she asked tiredly. She hadn't slept well, unable to let go of the tension that had filled her from the moment she heard the Ark's orders that they procreate, exacerbated by her anxiety that the previous night might have made things between her and Bellamy difficult.

"One, because she's a good tracker and hunter, and two, because she sucks at hand to hand," he stated flatly. "Jones and Drew, that's my final offer."

"I accept."

Bellamy nodded and walked away from her, making it only a few steps before she started after him. "Bellamy." He stopped, turning his head to watch her approach, his back straight, his expression impassive. "You'll be back by nightfall?"

"Depends on how far we have to go to catch something," he dismissed her concern with practicality.

"Don't... don't go too far. You're needed here."

His eyes blazed to life and he stepped closer to her, crowding her personal space. "You sound like you mean that."

"I do," Clarke said clearly, standing her ground. She was used to standing firm in the face of Bellamy's aggression, but she wasn't used to the hum of electricity between them, the pulse of her reaction to him warming her body in ways she didn't want to broadcast to him or the camp.

He dipped his head so his mouth was mere inches from hers when he spoke. "I'll be back, Princess. This camp is my home, and I don't walk away from the things that are mine."

A jolt of sensation skittered down her back, raising goosebumps all over her body. His dark eyes bored into hers and the rest of camp, bustling with morning duties, fell away, leaving just the two of them. The sound of Raven's strident voice chastising some poor teen who'd touched her tools and earned her ire broke the spell.

"I'll see you tonight, Clarke."

She blinked stupidly at him. "Tonight."

-The 100-

True to his word, Bellamy returned that night, but Clarke wasn't waiting for him, open armed or otherwise. Instead she was busy at work aligning a badly broken leg and attempting The 100's first cast with sticks, birch bark and sap. He checked in on her, offered his moral support and returned to the campfire for a late dinner with the rest of the hunting party.

The next morning, Clark awoke feeling exhausted both mentally and physically. While the previous day, she'd wanted to approach Bellamy first thing and make sure that there wasn't an opportunity for tension to build a wall between them, now Clark was of the opposite mind. She wanted to put some space between them and let her emotions settle.

Addressing the elephant in the room had been the right thing for the camp, but giving herself some space to breathe was what she needed for herself. She told herself it was because getting involved with Bellamy in a romantic or sexual relationship would jeopardize their working relationship, and pretended not to notice the ache in her chest that had started when she'd seen him at the campfire the previous night surrounded by three clearly eager girls.

Not that she blamed them, Bellamy was attractive, clearly the alpha male in their camp, strong and sexy. All of which had factored into her indecision on whether to go to his tent the night he'd asked her or not. Clarke's natural reserve and continued confusion over what Bellamy wanted from her and what he was offering, and even what she wanted and what she had to offer had stopped her. She'd second guessed her decision, but now she was fairly certain she'd made the right choice.

-The 100-

The next morning dawned a new day, and determined to avoid any personal interactions with Bellamy, Clarke busied herself with her patient, a boy named Justin Giles until it was almost time for the hunting party to leave.

Exiting the drop ship Clarke saw Miller gathering the hunters, checking their supplies, when Bellamy strode up to the group a backpack over his shoulder and his usual weapons with him.

"Miller, change of plans, I'm taking lead, you need to stay in camp," Bellamy declared.

Miller hesitated, his confused gaze going from Bellamy to Clarke with dawning understanding. "Yeah, alright."

Clarke hurried towards them, a frown marring her pretty face. "Bellamy I thought you were going to oversee the building today?" They'd decided that tents weren't going to work for the winter, and had milled lumber and gathered stone from the surrounding forest in preparation for constructing their first actual building.

"Jones can handle it," Bellamy said shortly, his gaze glancing over her dismissively.

"But we need to talk about the wristbands-"

"That can wait, Raven and Monty aren't ready," he countered.

"But-"

"Look, Princess, just stay in camp and off the radio, nothing here can't wait for 24 hours," Bellamy said before turning abruptly and leaving camp, the hunting party scrambling to fall in line behind him.

Miller moved closer to Clarke watching her watch Bellamy's retreat, and Miller couldn't think of it as anything else. Whatever had happened between Bellamy and Clarke two nights before had clearly caused a problem between their two leaders. Bellamy had been watching Clarke all morning, but anytime he'd looked like he was going to approach her, she'd disappeared or occupied herself with someone or something else. Yet when Bellamy had decided to get out of camp, Clarke had clearly not wanted him to go. Miller shook his head, hoping that they figured it out, and hoping more fervently that he never fell victim to feelings that made sane people act irrationally.

"He'll be alright, Clarke," Miller reassured her.

"I know."

-The 100-

Clarke knew she was being ridiculous. She'd avoided Bellamy all morning, but once he was gone, she couldn't help but want him back. Clarke didn't have much faith in her ability to understand people and relationships, she was better with facts than emotions, but she knew that Bellamy had wanted to talk to her. Everywhere she'd turned that morning, he'd been there. Waiting. Watching.

She'd wanted to avoid him, and she had. They both had more responsibilities in camp than they could actually manage on a day to day basis, so she hadn't even had to manufacture anything, she'd just prioritized everything else as more important than talking to him.

She should be grateful he'd gone on the hunting trip. It gave her the space she wanted. But her logic didn't dispel the sense of unease that had hovered over her since he'd been gone.

-The 100-

The hunting party came back a few hours after the sun had sank behind the mountains, and the anxiety that had been Clarke's constant companion that day faded as they all appeared healthy- if dirty and tired after a successful hunt. Of the eight people who went out, six came back carrying antelope, while Harper carried smaller game in her rucksack and Del was acting as the unencumbered armed guard.

The teens cheered at the sight, happy for fresh food and preferring meat, despite the fact they they'd mostly grown up vegetarian and despite Clarke's warnings that they needed to eat plenty of fresh fruit and vegetables while they could.

Clarke stood slightly back from the rest, a stiff breeze lifting her hair and causing her to cross her arms over her chest in an effort to conserve warmth. The storm the Ark had been tracking was due to arrive that night with wind and rain, but hopefully no major temperature drops since they only had one wood structure built and it would only sleep 30- and that was if they all got cozy.

Clarke waited to see if Bellamy would come to her, but when he didn't she decided to step up and approach him. Grabbing a piece of meat as well as a cup of bland veggie soup, Clarke walked up to the group surrounding Bellamy and waited.

Eventually the teens moved away, leaving their two leaders with a modicum of privacy. "Your hunters did well today," Clarke complimented.

"Not well enough. There were hundreds of antelope, we caught six. Not a great success ratio," he said roughly. "Things were OK here?"

"Yeah, all quiet on the home front. Monty and Raven figured out the drill," she said with a smile seeing Bellamy's interest perk up. "And the first building is finished."

"I saw. It won't be enough," he said pessimistically. "And we'll need to divert the builders to smoke house tomorrow so we can preserve the antelope we caught today, and hopefully the ones we catch tomorrow."

Clarke frowned, glancing up at the dark clouds, no moon shining through that night. "You're planning on going out tomorrow? But the storm-"

"I'll only take a few people with me. Ones who won't whine the whole time about being wet and cold."

Clarke looked like she wanted to argue, but she let it go. They needed the meat, needed as much food as they could possibly get and store before the first snowfall. "We found some bee hives yesterday, we're going out again as soon as it's dry to try to harvest some of the honey comb. In the spring we should try to start our own hives, plant some crops, instead of relying on scavenging alone."

Bellamy grunted in response, and Clarke figured she had lost his attention. Monty and I were talking about sending a small team west after the snow thaws. The salt we got from the FEMA bunker will hold us for this winter, but-"

"We'll have plenty of time to plan once we're holed up inside from the cold, Princess. For right now, let's focus on surviving this winter."

Clarke looked at him, seeing that his expression was hard, a faraway look in his eyes. "We disabled Octavia's wristband today."

Bellamy's eyes snapped to her. "What?!"

"Monty and Raven did his and a few others, and when nothing bad happened, we did Octavia's. We saved the poison if you're interested."

"You should have waited for me," he said angrily, glaring down at Clarke.

"We could have, but you being there would have only made the situation more stressful for everyone," she stated flatly.

"She's my sister-" he said heatedly, clearing gearing up for a fight.

"Exactly. And now she's safe. Be happy," she said tightly, glaring back at him.

Bellamy stormed off, presumably to find Octavia, but Clarke didn't follow. She had no idea what to expect from Bellamy on a moment to moment basis anymore and that very uncertainty was another reason for her keeping things platonic and professional with Bellamy. They had to work together, and if one physical encounter was enough to derail their communication then an actual relationship where their emotions might become involved had every indication of being a disaster.

-The 100-

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	5. Chapter 5

**Two by Two**

**Set after S01E08 - Day Trip**

_Raven has restored communication with the Ark. Finn is healing, Bellamy and Clark have made the trip to the FEMA bunker in Washington DC. Assessing the situation on the ground and in space, Jaha and the council decide to remain in space until Spring (necessitating the culling of hundreds more people) and order The 100 to pair up and start repopulating the Eart_h.

**Chapter 5**

By the next morning the storm had arrived with blustery winds and sporadic heavy rainfalls. Clarke watched pensively as Bellamy and a group of three others dressed in all the waterproof clothing that they had in preparation for a day exposed to the elements. Bellamy glanced at her, and motioned her over.

"Drew and Derek are on guard duty today. Keep everyone inside the walls. It'll be too easy to get lost or spooked in this," he commanded, looking up at the dark grey sky. "Focus on –"

"The smoke house and patching any holes in the drop ship and new building, I don't need to be told," she replied sharply.

Bellamy's eyes narrowed on her, apparently as ready to fight as she was. "You have something to say?"

"I think I already did."

"I don't know what you think you have to be mad about. It was my sister whose life you risked yesterday-"

"We saved her life, saved her from whatever capriciousness might be coming down from the Ark," she argued heatedly.

"She's my sister, you don't make decisions for her," he said commandingly.

"I make decisions for everyone in this camp, that's what leaders do." He opened his mouth to respond but she cut him off. "You should get going, the Ark says that the storm is only going to worsen as the day goes on."

Bellamy frowned, not sure what to think of her easy dismissal. "I'm taking Miller today," he said with some unease.

"Take him, I don't need either of you here, I can handle this on my own."

"You're not on your own," he bit out.

"No, I have Monty and Raven and Jones."

His mouth twisted. "Did Spacewalker get demoted? He used to be your right hand guy."

"Just go Bellamy," she said wearily turning away from him and darting towards the drop ship, mud splashing up on her boots and pants as she went.

-The 100-

The storm turned out to be too mild to be used as cover for knocking out the radio, but despite that set back work in camp went off relatively well. Raven and Monty were had managed to make the drill last long enough to remove the poison from another five wristbands, and thought they could systematically drain the poison from the wristbands at a rate of four to six per day depending on how well the metal held up.

"What I wouldn't give for real tools," Raven lamented as she left Monty at work inside, searching the Ark's databases for cold weather survival tips.

"You and me both," Clarke agreed, her eyes glued on the work being done on the smoke house. Jones had proven to have an instinctive understanding for building, and was overseeing most of the work as he had done on the single dorm they'd built earlier

"They're getting better at it," Raven offered, though she didn't look like she was impressed. Clarke glanced at her. "The buildings."

"The floor of the bunk house is completely covered in mud," Clarke said darkly. "The roof leaks."

"Bad?"

Clarke sighed. "Yeah. We came up with a solution, we just need a few days of dry weather to make it work."

"You mean you came up with the solution. This isn't exactly a brain trust down here. You'd think since we're all descended from scientists, that we'd be working with a little more IQ points…"

"The Ark made people specialize too much. What general ed we had is useless," Clarke disparaged. It weighed on her mind more and more that they'd improve their chance of survival by leaps and bounds if they could just broker a truce with the Grounders and share knowledge.

"We had earth skills," Raven disagreed.

Clarke glanced at her before yelling for Jones to correct a few of the builders who had seemingly forgotten the plan for the smoke house and looked to be building a wall for something else entirely. "Some of us had Earth skills. No one from Arcadia did."

Arcadia, also known as factory station, had the least skilled workers, and the least educated.

Raven frowned. "Mecha station did."

"You were hardly the bottom of the food chain, Raven," Clarke said softly.

"Then how is Bellamy doing so well?" Bellamy was from the lowest class station on the Ark and wasn't ashamed of it, at least not on the ground. He wore his prior oppression like a badge of honor, though Clarke doubted he'd been so proud of his rough upbringing when he'd been on the Ark, struggling to survive.

"He was a guard cadet. Being a guard was one of the only ways off Arcadia. And he's smart and well read. He taught the people he recruited as guards down here."

"Well I guess that answers that question," Raven said pointedly.

"What question?"

"The question of whether or not you two hate each other or love each other, because everyone knows something has changed with our fearless leaders."

"Nothing-," Clarke started to deny Raven's charge, but the other girl's direct look called bullshit on whatever Clarke might offer in denial. Clarke sighed. "He's mad that we risked Octavia when we took off her wristband."

"But that was the plan," Raven said with a frown.

"I didn't say it was logical."

"No, good try though," Raven said jovially. "He's been in a pissy mood ever since… Oh," Raven exclaimed putting two and two together. "Did you two-?"

"No," Clarke denied quickly.

"You said no? Is that why-"

"No, he didn't ask and I didn't offer, no one said anything."

Raven grinned and nodded. "Ah. So no rejection then, at least not outright. He kinda asked and you kinda didn't reply and now you're both adrift on a sea of unresolved sexual tension. Or maybe you offered and he hesitated… Nah."

Clarke gave Raven a dour look and darted into the rain going over to Jones to point out that the builders had started to deviate from the drawn design again.

"You should just face facts, Clarke, putting things off will only make them worse!" Raven hollered after her.

-The 100-

Two days later, the dorm was mostly waterproof, after several rounds of trial and error, and a second bunker was just waiting for its roof to be put on, and the smoke house pumped out heat and delicious smells all hours of the day.

Walking towards the drop ship to check on their supply of bullets and gun powder, Bellamy paused to see Clarke smiling widely at the boy who'd broken his leg. Clarke had enlisted Miller and Jones to help carry him outside; thinking that a few hours of sun would help his spirits. Bellamy scowled as Clarke rested her hand on his shoulder, promising to be gentle when the time came to remove the splint.

Over the next few days Clarke kept busy, treating minor injuries, checking on the boy with the painful broken leg, and overseeing the building of the new dorms whenever Bellamy wasn't around to do it himself. Which he currently wasn't, because he'd gone out on another long hunting trip, taking Jones and Miller with him along with most of the larger boys.

By the afternoon, Clarke was beyond annoyed with the teens. They seemed to require constant supervision, unsure one moment and blundering ahead the next making time costing mistakes in the build of the third dorm. The project had hardly moved forward despite a solid two days work.

Clarke was about to snap and yell at a few of the more difficult teens when Bellamy's team returned to camp. Jubilant cheers meet them once the deer they were carrying became visible in the darkness. Clarke wanted to smile, wanted the tension that had filled her all day to dissipate, but couldn't as Bellamy's dark gaze swept over the camp quickly checking in with Miller and Octavia before landing on Clarke.

She nodded at him, then turned and walked towards the drop ship, forcing herself to move slowly and calmly, telling herself that she wasn't avoiding Bellamy, but rather that he could handle the main camp while she saw to her patients.

She'd barely finished soothing the boy with a broken leg back into a restless sleep when Bellamy's voice startled her, making her whip around to face him, her heart racing.

"You made some headway on dorm."

Clarke took a calming breath before answering. "Not enough. I don't know how anything got build at all," she said, moving away from the sleeping boy towards the back wall, away from Bellamy. "They can't read the plans for anything and everything is ten times more difficult than it should be."

"You could have waited," he said calmly, following her despite her apparent desire to not be close to him.

"It needed to be done," she countered.

"The list of things that need to be done is practically never ending, Princess."

"And it will never get done if we don't try," she replied sharply.

The muscle in his jaw ticked and his eyes glanced over at the computer that enabled communications from the Ark, and enabled the Ark to spy on them. He moved closer to her, wrapping his arms around her stiffly and turning his back to the camera. "You have something to say?"

"Monty and Raven managed to drain the poison from seven more wristbands today," she said quietly, her jaw tight and her eyes mutinous. "The drill heads don't last long. It takes as long to make them as it does for them to fall apart," she complained.

He ignored her negative comment. "Seven more, that makes-"

"Twenty-six. We need to move faster."

"Then concoct some story about some more deaths and we'll remove some of those damn bands completely tomorrow while Raven makes more drill bits. Now, if that's it for your complaints for now, we'll have fresh meat tonight as well as some squash we found the deer eating."

He dropped his arms from around her and stepped away, but at the last minute changed his mind. Bellamy slipped his hand under the fall of her hair, cupping it around her neck and pulling her close for a lingering kiss. Clarke stiffened but didn't withdraw, knowing they were visible on the camera if anyone from the Ark was watching.

Bellamy lifted his head and peered down at her, before pressing his lips to hers once more. He lifted one of her hands to his shoulder and pulled her tighter against him, feeling resistance then the telltale softening of her body as she relaxed into his hold. Dragging his tongue across her bottom lip, he asked for entrance and after a long second was granted it.

He could feel her heart racing, pounding inside her chest, the rhythm discernable since he was holding her pressed tightly to him.

"I don't want to fight with you, Clarke," he murmured as he broke apart from her.

Luminous blue eyes shone up at him. "I don't either."

"Then we're not fighting," he said firmly. Clarke looked unsure but didn't argue against the statement. It wasn't a fight. But it was something. Tension and uncomfortable awareness that made the simplest tasks, like talking to him, nearly impossible. "Come get something to eat."

"I will, I-"

"Five minutes, Princess," he said imperiously, slapping her butt as he stepped back from her. "Any longer and I'll drag you out of here, willing or not."

She narrowed her eyes at him, her expression sour since he'd said the last bit loudly enough to register on the communications equipment. Bellamy just grinned in response, inflaming her temper even more.

"You wouldn't dare."

Bellamy stopped, turning to face her. "Wouldn't I?"

Jasper popped his head past the curtain, glancing at the communications equipment nervously. "Hey guys, I wanted to invite you to enjoy a night of fine moonshine." He waited for a response, but Bellamy and Clarke just continued to stare at each other, or in Clarke's case glare at Bellamy. "Uh, guys?" Jasper asked his voice screechy with puberty. "Yeah, I guess you have better things to do. Right-o."

Jasper ducked out and Bellamy set down his gun on one of the supply cabinets. "Tell me again what I wouldn't dare, Princess."

"You wouldn't-" She didn't complete her sentence because Bellamy closed the distance between them in two long strides, putting his shoulder in her stomach and lifting her off of her feet.

Clarke flailed and screeched, hands slapping at his back as she demanded that he put her down.

"Whatever you say, Princess," he said agreeably, setting her down on the cabinets next to his gun, only to pin her arms behind her back with one hand while the other curled around her neck. He tipped her face up to his, taking in her flushed cheeks and fiery expression. "You're beautiful when you're mad as hell," he said before capturing her mouth with his again.

Bellamy was pleased when she immediately opened her mouth, arching her back to press closer to him. He released her arms, pulling away a few inches to let her decide if she wanted to kiss him or not. "Bellamy?" she questioned, her blue eyes blurred around the edges.

"This is your choice, Clarke, your call," he said softly, his hands rubbing up and down her arms gently. He saw questions cloud her eyes, but her hand was steady as it reached up and circled around his neck pulling him back down to her.

-The 100—

Clarke didn't join the crowd for dinner around the nightly camp fire until 15 minutes after Bellamy finally left her with a reminder that she had five minutes, but her little rebellion only elicited a mocking salute from Bellamy who looked only too proud of himself. She turned away from him, going over to the cluster of people that included Monty and Raven, joining their conversation as she ate her allotment of meat and soup.

The nightly camp fire had become something of a ritual to The 100, and generally the nights went one of two ways depending on whether or not Monty broke out the moonshine or not. One nights without booze there was general comradery, tired teens taking and laughing, with minor outbreaks of teen drama. On the nights with moonshine, the conversations were louder, generally someone drummed a beat, people danced and the drama kicked up a notch as hook ups and breakups occurred regularly.

For Clarke, the two kind of nights were barely discernibly different. It wasn't that she didn't drink or didn't want to have fun, but the weight of her responsibilities made it hard for her to cut loose. That night she had one cup of Monty's moonshine and just felt tired. Thinking that another serving might help her sleep (something she didn't get enough of) she accepted a refill from Sterling who didn't leave right away.

Ten minutes later with Bellamy's dark gaze burning a hole in her forehead, she realized that Sterling was flirting with her. She smiled at him, wondering what he'd done to get thrown in the Sky Box.

"So the dorms are coming along, that's awesome," Sterling said as the conversation lagged.

"Yeah, but-" Clarke started to reply but a large yawn made speaking impossible. "Sorry."

"You must be tired."

"I am," she agreed, seeing an easy way out of the conversation.

"OK, I'll let you go then. See you tomorrow."

Clarke frowned lightly, but nodded her head. Instead of heading to her tent she walked a few feet over to where Monty and Jasper were sitting by the fire, their backs resting against a large log that had been cut but not added to the dorm currently under construction.

"Hey," she greeted, having a seat next to Monty.

"Pull up a patch of dirt, Clarke. You need a refill?" Jasper asked happily.

"No, I'm good, but thanks."

She sat but didn't join their conversation, letting Jasper's enthusiastic musings blend with Monty's amused replies, the pleasant combination lulling her to sleep. Her head tilted over to rest on Monty's shoulder, and the boys lowered their voices so as not to wake her.

Not much later the crowd thinned as teens retired to their tents or one of the two built longhouses that provided shelter.

"Should we wake her?" Jasper asked, looking at Clarke.

"I think we have to, she can't sleep out here all night," Monty opined.

"So wake her."

"Why do I have to wake her?"

The good natured duo argued over it, but the decision was made as Bellamy walked over to them, a quietly contemplative look on his face as he gazed down at Clarke. "You two should get to bed, Jasper you're with me tomorrow, and Monty you-"

"I'll work on getting more wristbands off. What are you doing with Clarke?" The slight boy asked as Bellamy dropped to his haunches and slid his arms under Clarke's knees and behind her back before standing up with her in his arms.

"Taking her to bed," Bellamy replied shortly.

Monty followed after the older boy, seeing that he was not headed towards Clarke's tent. "To your bed?" Bellamy entered his tent, expecting Monty to stay outside, ending their conversation, but the Asian boy surprised him by following close on his heels. "Clarke has her own tent."

"Which is cold, and everyone thinks they can wake her up at all hours for any tiny ailment. She clearly needs more sleep, and she'll get it here," Bellamy said matter-of-factly as he set her down on his bed before removing her boots and jacket and slipping her under the covers.

"In your bed. With you," Monty said flatly, watching as Bellamy took off his own jacket, boots and pants before climbing in beside a still sleeping Clarke. "I don't think so."

"You can go," Bellamy commanded.

"And leave you here with her? I don't think so."

"What do you think I'm going to do to her?"

"I don't know, what are you-"

Monty broke off as Clarke opened her eyes and moved her head side to side on the pillow, obviously disoriented. "Bellamy?"

"Go to sleep, Princess. Everything is fine. Right, Green?"

Monty didn't reply, watching as Clarke rolled onto her side, towards Bellamy, her hand coming to rest on his chest. Bellamy took her hand in his, moving it back under the blankets to keep warm before looking over at Monty.

His expression was weary. "Go, or stay if you don't trust me, but either way, extinguish that damn torch," Bellamy ordered before closing his eyes.

"You won't hurt her," Monty said evenly.

"I've never hurt her."

"We need her. And you. But I won't let you trample on her. So fix whatever the problem is, Bellamy," Monty said firmly, not cowed by Bellamy's glare, and not ignorant to the distance and coldness between the two leaders in recent days.

"Get out before you really piss me off."

Monty stood his ground for long enough to make his point, then left the tent, leaving Clarke in Bellamy's hands without any lingering doubt that the older boy might try to take advantage of the situation. Whatever strife they had currently between them, the core of their partnership was intact.

-The 100-

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	6. Chapter 6

**Two by Two**

_Set after S01E08 - Day Trip_

_Raven has restored communication with the Ark. Finn is healing, Bellamy and Clark have made the trip to the FEMA bunker in Washington DC. The kids on the ground are able to talk briefly with their parents, while news of the bombing on the Ark sends shockwaves through camp (despite Jaha's instructions for Clarke to keep the news quiet). Clarke and Raven are the only two who have spoken to the Ark Council over the radio, supplying them with information on ground conditions._

**Chapter 6**

Clarke woke up slowly the next morning. The light seeping through her eyelids roused her, but the warmth of the bed she was in called her back to sleep. Burrowing under the covers she started to register more of her surroundings. A prickly straw mattress instead of her lumpy but less pokey layers of fabric scraps. Warm blankets, keeping her warmer than she had been in weeks. The sound of voices and movement outside and a smell that seemed familiar but out of place.

A loud crash and yelling from outside jolted her to instant awareness and she sat up recognizing Bellamy's tent. She was alone and from the amount of people outside it was much later in the morning than she usually got up, scrambling up she pulled on her shoes and jacket quickly, the cold air sending a chill down her spine. Finger combing her hair she grabbed the rough-hewn bowl of fruit and nuts that was sitting beside the bed and pushed open the tent flap to find the camp a hive of activity.

Blinking against the bright sun that did little to warm the air, Clarke saw that the third and final dorm had three of its four walls up, and from the looks of it, it was the fourth wall falling that had woken her up. Clarke walked towards the building site, seeing all of Bellamy's hunters and most of his guards begin to lift the fourth wall again, this time getting it in position and holding it up as others rushed to lash it to the standing walls.

"Hey Princess," Bellamy greeted her with a grunt as he forced his shoulder against the wall, Jones on one side of him, Miller on the other.

"Hey, uh… I guess I fell asleep last night."

"You needed the rest, Clarke," Jones said easily, the weight of the wall apparently not effecting him.

"You were pretty much knocked out, didn't even wake up when Bellamy picked you up," Miller offered through gritted teeth.

"I… OK. I should check on Persy," Clarke said self-consciously, speaking of the boy with the broken leg.

"Monty and Raven were in there with him, and O took over when they were ready to start up with the drill again," Bellamy dismissed her concern. "Try the new breakfast cereal," he suggested, though it sounded like an order.

"More like breakfast slop," Miller grunted.

"We call the soup slop, how about glop?" Jones suggested.

"Is glop even a word?"

"Goulash?" Jones offered.

"I think goulash has vegetables in it," Clarke demurred. "How about porridge?"

"Porridge?" Miller repeated, testing the word. "Works for me. Sounds suitably nasty."

"It's food and you'll eat it and be happy," Bellamy demanded, finally feeling the weight of the wall be held by the rope and wire they'd fashioned for the job. He stood upright and rolled his shoulders, loosening the sore muscle. "Now that this is up, take ten and then meet me at the gate with the others. We're getting a late start as it is."

Clarke watched as Bellamy marched across camp towards where Del and a few others were feeding the smokehouse. "Slow!" he yelled. "We want smoke and heat, not fire."

Miller looked at Clarke who was staring at Bellamy then glanced back at Jones with an amused smirk. "I'll eat it, but I won't be happy about it," he said causing Jones to laugh.

"Starving is an extraordinarily painful way to die. Your body begins consuming itself until your organs are so damaged that it shuts down entirely," Clarke said absently.

"Like I said, I'll eat it, but I –"

"Won't be happy about it," Clarke murmured.

"You could ask Monty about any plants that are sweet… I know this isn't the right climate for sugar cane, but maybe sugar beets?" Miller suggested with a pleading tone.

"Maybe maple syrup," Clark said quietly, her gaze still locked on Bellamy as he grabbed a rations pack for the day. She headed his direction without saying goodbye.

"I think we're about to get a sugar overload," Jones said with a slight smile.

"Where? What is maple syrup? Have you been holding out on me?" Miller demanded.

"Sugar... sweetness. Bellamy and Clarke," he said, but Miller still looked confused. "They're sweet on each other."

"Yeah, but what does that have to do with-"

"It's an expression. And maple syrup comes from a tree. I'll get Monty to draw the kind of leaf we're looking for, you get my pack ready." Jones waited for a reply seeing Clarke reach Bellamy's side. "Dude. Miller. My pack?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm busy."

"Watching them?"

"Why not, everyone else is," Miller replied, stating the obvious. The entire camp and a vested interest in Bellamy and Clarke having a smooth working relationship. When one or the other was giving orders things seemed to go wrong, but together things worked out. With a chill in the air and the ground still muddy from the last rain and the Ark above them making plans for them, they were all reminded on a daily basis that their existence was fragile, and good leadership and planning might be all that was standing between them and death.

-The 100-

That night the teens' worries were put to rest as Bellamy and Clarke stood side by side at the bonfire, talking quietly. Bellamy's team hadn't found much game that day, but had managed to identify a few maple trees, and found a line of fruit trees, still rich with fruit, along a creek.

"Do you know what these are?" Monty exclaimed loudly, inspecting the fruit.

"Apples?" Bellamy replied.

"Yes, but no. They were commonly called custard apples-"

"That sounds good," Jasper said.

"But really they're a tropical fruit tree called the Pawpaw."

"Less good," Jasper groused.

"Just taste it, you fool," Monty instructed, cutting one open and handing Jasper a wedge. "They have a high nutritional value, are high in calories, and are common in this area, or they were before the war. Before colonization, the native Indians and early settlers relied on the Pawpaw as a major part of their diet. Too bad they don't store well. Though we can experiment with drying them in wedges, that way-"

"Yeah, sounds good. Get a few people to help you and do it," Bellamy ordered.

"Do what?" Monty asked, his train of thought momentarily derailed.

"What you just said. Drying them or whatever."

"Apples would be better for that," Monty replied.

"We don't have apples," Bellamy said tiredly, but Monty just stared at him, blinking owlishly.

"Monty," Clarke interrupted. "Why don't you figure out where we'd most likely find apple trees and the hunters can keep an eye out."

Monty looked from Clarke to Bellamy's grouchy glare and shrugged. "Yeah, OK."

Clarke watched as Monty left with Jasper following on his heels before she turned to Bellamy. "We're doing better," Clarke said softly.

"We as in us or we as in-"

"All of us. Preparations for winter," she clarified. "The third dorm, jerky, winter squash, making soup…"

"Apples and pawpaw and-"

"Maple syrup," she said with a smile. "And us too. We're… OK, right?" She questioned. They hadn't really spoke about their last kiss, or the fight that followed, or the makeout that followed the fight, or the fact that he'd carried her into his tent, or that they's spent the night together in his bed.

"We're OK, Clarke."

She smiled and nodded before heading towards her tent. Once the roof of the last long building was waterproofed she, along with Bellamy, Octavia, Raven, Finn, Monty, Jasper, Miller and about 10 others would be moving in. Their building would have the fewest inhabitants, but it would also house a command area for planning, since the drop ship was crowded with the medical area, Raven and Monty's electronics, supplies and now food prepped for winter storage.

-The 100-

The next morning dawned bright and cold, the chill in the air visible in The 100's white puffs of breath. Clarke checked in with the Ark, telling them erroneously that two more teens had died falling into grounder traps while hunting. They'd disabled another nine wristbands' poison and removed Jones' and Miller's entirely.

Clarke was worried that anyone with a removed wristband had to stay out of the drop ship entirely and wouldn't be able to be treated in her medical bay since they had no idea how often the Ark was spying or if they were recording the feed, so Raven and Monty moved the communications equipment to the third floor where they faced the cameras towards the wall and far fewer people had a reason to be.

Bellamy observed her report and her growing anger at the Ark's demands for information on pregnancies among The 100. "It's still too early to tell for sure, but I think that two pregnancies are likely. Cassie and Andromeda are both showing early symptoms."

Bellamy frowned at that piece of news. When Clarke had told him about it, she'd said it was possible, not likely.

"That's good," Jaha replied, sounding smug. "What about the Grounders, have you found their camp yet?"

"No," Clarke said her tone sour. "We're not looking for them, we're actually happy we haven't seen them recently, when we do, people tend to end up dead."

"We need to know-" Kane started in a demanding tone, several other council members nodding their heads in support for him.

"We're on the ground, we're their prey, our need to know is greater, but our greatest need is to get ready for winter, and that is our priority," Clarke said resolutely.

Jaha sat back in his seat, his expression that of a disappointed parent, and Bellamy gritted his teeth together. Kane leaned forward. "If you are unable to follow orders, Ms. Griffin, perhaps we should speak to someone who is."

Bellamy stepped forward. "Trust me, you want to deal with her. I'm a lot less agreeable to taking orders from-"

"What Bellamy is saying," Clarke cut him off, "is that none of us are looking to provoke the Grounders. To you, our lives don't matter, but to us, each one of us is important and we have lost too many children already."

Bellamy stared at the camera, seeing how Abby Griffin flinched at Clarke's words, but the remainder of the council remained impassive.

Once she'd completed her contentious report to the Ark's council and made her rounds, Clarke went looking for Bellamy. He'd been tense all morning, even before the radio communication.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing."

She tilted her head in exasperation and curled her hand around his elbow tugging him away from the center of camp to allow them a bit of privacy. Coming to rest by the fence, she turned her face up, keeping her gaze locked on him. Calm. Determined. Stubborn.

"I had a dream," he said finally, his tone weary.

She nodded shortly, her gaze dropping to her feet. "A nightmare? I have them too," she said, not waiting for his confirmation. If she'd asked what it was about he probably wouldn't have told her. But she stayed quiet. Waiting.

"The second day we were on the ground," he ground out.

"When we got Jasper back?" she questioned.

He nodded. "I dreamt I dropped you. That I let you go. That you died."

Clarke smiled softly and reached out to place her hand on his forearm. He was wearing his jacket but she could still feel the heat radiating off of him. "But I didn't," she said softly. "Because you didn't." She smiled wirily. "You may have wanted to. You may have wished you did let me fall later. But you didn't. You caught me. You held me. You pulled me up. And you saved me." She squeezed his arm and met his gaze earnestly. "And you've saved all of us." She smiled and looked down again. "That's what leaders do, isn't it?"

"You save people princess," he said gruffly. "I just keep them alive another day when I can."

"That's not true. You know that. I couldn't do this... Any of it without you."

Bellamy scanned the teens in camp, not looking for anyone or anything in particular but needing to not have her eyes boring into his soul during another moment of insecurity. He stepped away from her, breaking her hold on his arm, but turned back. "And Clarke, I only regretted saving you one or two times. Maybe three."

"Maybe more than three," she teased with a smile lighting her face.

"No," he said plainly. "Not more than three."

-The 100—

The teens looked forward to the next rain storm, because at least the clouds meant a chance for slightly higher temperatures, but while cloud cover meant the lows wouldn't dip so low, Clarke knew that the wet came with its own risks. Thankfully, two of the three long houses were waterproof, and the third was covered in parachute fabric while they waited for dry weather to slap on the last layer of leaves and tree pitch that would complete the waterproof membrane.

In addition, Raven had figured out chimneys to let them light fires inside to warm the structures while letting the smoke out and not letting the rain or cold air in. Several of the teens had been busy chopping wood for weeks, and stacks of wood crowded the longhouses, drop ship and a growing pile outside under one the piece of parachute that used to make up Bellamy's tent, since he and the others had moved into the not quite completed building after they'd woken to frost on the ground and had their first case of frostbite from a sick kid in a tent.

As the rain finally began to fall a few days later, Clarke stepped outside in just her t-shirt and jeans, even her feet were bare. She tilted her face up to the sky and rubbed her hands over her cheeks and neck, trying to use the rain to get clean. She'd been promised an afternoon off, and planned to spend the day under her covers while her clothes hung up to dry.

"You'll get sick," Bellamy said sternly, approaching her with one of their few waterproof jackets keeping his upper half dry.

"Old wives tale," Clarke said despite her worries about wet socks and teens not prone to good hygiene if it meant being cold to get clean or dry.

"What are you doing?" He asked in exasperation as she combed her fingers through her hair, feeling better already as the fine layer of dirt washed off her skin and released from the blonde strands.

"I dreamed of rain, on the Ark. I couldn't imagine it, not really. I thought it was small, like a shower, but this storm must stretch miles. It's massive."

"Not massive enough; no wind. The Ark won't believe that it took out communications with them, and it's taking too long to remove the wristbands, we're not ready."

Clarke nodded, blowing out a breath the air barely white, since they'd gotten lucky with a warmish storm instead of an arctic blast. "So we keep up the ruse. Pretend to be happily copulating couples obeying the Ark's arcane orders."

He nodded. "Clarke."

She slowly swung her gaze up to him, noticing that the camp appeared empty. All the remaining 100 had taken refuge from the rain in their tents or the drop ship. He stepped closer to her, sweeping a finger down her wet cheek, then slipping his hands into her hair, rubbing his fingers along her scalp, and she let her hands fall down to rest on his chest. "It wasn't all pretend."

She blinked and nodded slightly then his mouth was on hers. She didn't hesitate, she'd had long enough to think, had seen enough to be sure, and knew that whether it was now or in a few more days or weeks, that as things stood, this was inevitable. Clarke stepped into his arms, tilting her head back and letting the raindrops run down her face and into her hair, revealing in the feeling of his warm hands pressing into her.

She'd been growing closer to Bellamy since Charlotte had died, had come to trust and respect him, knew she could depend on him and be honest with him. She didn't have to hide her fears and uncertainties with him, and when it came to him and her, together as a couple, she no longer had the uncertainties that had prevented her from letting him get close.

Girls flirted with Bellamy, and sometimes he flirted back, but that was as far as it went. She knew she wasn't just another girl to him, not one of the many, and while he seemed as ill at ease speaking about his feelings as she was, she knew that he understood the stakes.

Their coming together couldn't be a momentary thing, or a capricious thing, they had responsibilities to the camp that required them to be able to work together, and Clarke trusted that while she didn't know what the future would bring, that a fundamental understanding, trust and respect would always be there between them, uniting them.

-The 100—

Bellamy and Clarke spent the day inside, in his walled off area of their longhouse, talking and relaxing for once, but mostly undressed and mostly in his bed. When they heard a crash and yelling from outside, they tensed, and Clarke sat up, pulling on her damp clothes quickly. She'd just sat down on the bed to put on her boots when Miller's voice sounded from outside the cloth panel door.

"Hey, we got this, no one is injured, you can both keep enjo- taking some time off," Miller said, sounding somewhat anxious.

"What was it?" Clarke asked, shifting to her feet, but Bellamy pulled her back down.

"If no one is hurt and the wall is still up, we don't care," he said firmly.

"I care, what if-"

"We don't care, do we, Miller?"

"It was a wood pile, we'll cover it and restack it once the rain stops. I got this," Miller said, sounding less uncomfortable and more confident.

"Oh shut up, you little shit," Raven's voice sounded. "I got this, you to go back to keeping each other's fuses lit, everyone else with half a brain is holed up inside too. At this rate the Ark with get their way based off of sheer boredom alone," Raven groused, insinuating that she knew exactly what Bellamy and Clarke had been doing for the past few hours and suggesting that they weren't the only ones to find an enjoyable indoor activity to keep the boredom at bay.

"The guards are outside," Miller argued.

"Like I said everyone with _half_ a brain," Raven sassed, her voice fading as she moved away.

"We're working, not everyone gets a day off just because it's cold and wet."

"Oh cry me a river, Miller. I'm working too."

"Inside the drop ship."

"You want to deal with scared and whiny kids? Give me your gun, I'll watch the trees, you go inside to warm up your delicate little hands," she taunted him.

Clarke laughed, unable to hear Miller's response, but able to discern the indignant tone of his voice.

"If she weren't blinded by her loyalty to Finn, they could have a thing," Bellamy said, pinning Clarke under him.

"She loves Finn," Clarke said softly, no hint of regret or jealousy in her voice.

"He's a child and she's-"

"Amazing. We would have struggled so much more down here without her, so you should be happy that she came for Finn, because-"

Bellamy cut her off with a kiss, his hands moving down her body to pull off her boots and toss them across the room. "I don't want to talk about Finn and Raven."

"Then what do you want to do?" Clarke asked knowingly as he settled his body over hers again.

"Well, since you got dressed, unnecessarily, I thought I would enjoy undressing you again, then just enjoy you."

Clarke giggled as he kissed a sensitive spot by her ear, knowing she would enjoy him too.

-The 100—

It rained for two days, and the whole camp was going stir crazy by the time the last drop fell. Bellamy quickly marshaled them back to work, sending out three different hunting and scavenging teams, one lead by Finn, who Clarke had finally cleared to return to regular activity.

Raven watched anxiously as he left camp, but knew that it wasn't right to send others outside the camps walls while keeping the one she cared about inside. "He'll be OK," Clarke reassured. "He's really good at earth skills."

"Didn't stop him from getting stabbed before," Raven said hollowly.

"No, but we haven't encountered grounders in over a week. The teams have to go out, we need-"

"I know, Clarke. I do. But I don't have to like it. Finn… Finn's only here because of me."

"What do you mean?" Clarke asked, perplexed.

"He got arrested because of me, it was my fault."

Clarke wasn't sure what Raven meant, but she thought she could help with the other girl's guilt. "He's alive because he's here. If he had stayed on the Ark… only 500 people, Raven. How many 18 year olds without proven expertise will be chosen to come down? Most of us wouldn't have made the cut. I can't agree with what the Ark did, sending us down here without any tools to help us survive, but with how things worked out…"

"Yeah," Raven said contemplatively. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

-The 100—

Clarke was sitting in the drop ship, staring at the blank grey metal wall when Bellamy returned to camp. "Something wrong, Princess?

Clarke looked over at him, smiling, her eyes taking a quick tour of his body to check for injuries, satisfied to find him muddy, but healthy. "We have a confirmed pregnancy," she said quietly.

"Who?"

"Callista. She came in earlier, I'd never even talked to her before, she's never been injured, though I suppose that makes sense…"

Bellamy frowned not following her, but able to see that she was upset. "Why would that make sense?"

"She's at least nine weeks pregnant. Maybe twelve. I can't be sure. She was pregnant before we left the Ark, Bellamy. She knew it and she stayed clear of trouble and injuries, right from the start."

"So she was pregnant, people get locked up and floated for unsanctioned pregnancies all the time."

Clarke swallowed hard, knowing he wasn't going to like the next part. "She was arrested five months ago. She was in the Sky Box when-"

"A guard," Bellamy said with growing dread. "A guard either raped her or traded favors with her."

"Apparently it was pretty common," Clarke said quietly. "I… The guards weren't allowed to talk to me, so I never knew. I was in solitary, no contact. My meals were pushed through the door and that was it. I guess I should be grateful."

"I have to talk to Octavia," Bellamy said already moving towards the exit, anger simmering just below the surface.

"I know."

-The 100—

* * *

Words 3593


	7. Chapter 7

**Two by Two**

**Set after S01E08 - Day Trip**

Raven has restored communication with the Ark. Finn is healing, Bellamy and Clark have made the trip to the FEMA bunker in Washington DC. Assessing the situation on the ground and in space, Jaha and the council decide to remain in space until Spring (necessitating the culling of hundreds more people) and order The 100 to pair up and start repopulating the Earth.

* * *

**Chapter 7**

When Bellamy sought Clarke out again later that night, he found her talking to Callista soothingly. "Women have been having babies for thousands of years without medications or machines."

"I don't know anything about babies, there weren't many kids born in my sector," the pregnant girl said tearfully. "I turned 18 last week, I think. It's hard to tell down here… I would have been floated on the Ark before anyone even knew, but down here… To have a baby I don't even want…"

"Do you really not want it?" Clarke asked gently. "I'm not judging you, but… you could have come and talked to me or Monty when we first got here, you had to know…"

Callista had been assigned to work the crops on Farm station on the Ark, she had known Monty, and since she'd asked Monty for herbs to settle her stomach while on the ground, she knew he would likely know other herbs, herbs that might end an unwanted pregnancy.

The girl ducked her head. "I never thought I'd have a family, why would they allow me to have a baby, I didn't even make it into tertiary school, I was classified as unskilled labor. I took all my supplements, I don't know how-"

"The medication doesn't always work," Bellamy spoke up, alerting them to his presence. "Sometimes other drugs interfere; sometimes it's a body chemistry thing." Clarke nodded, wondering if that was how Bellamy's mom had gotten pregnant with Octavia, if it had been an accident, or something she'd wanted.

Callista seemed to shrink back behind Clarke, and Bellamy knew without even having to ask that her pregnancy hadn't come about by her choice.

"What matters is that it happened, and now we need to know what you want to do," Clarke said softly. "Monty thinks he can find some herbs that would cause your body to reject the pregnancy, if that's what you wanted," Clarke finished, seeing Callista's hand cover her stomach protectively.

"I… I'm scared, but I don't think I want… that. It's a baby, innocent. And you said that every life matters here," Callista said, sounding alive and energized for the first time since telling Clarke that she was pregnant.

"That's right, every life does matter. And if you want this baby, then his or her life is one we'll cherish," Clarke agreed.

"There is not much we can do now to prepare, besides increasing your rations, but in the spring we'll be ready, it won't be easy, but we can do this," Bellamy said determinedly.

"But when the Ark comes, what if… what if he-"

"The odds are in your favor that the father won't come down, there are only 500 seats available," Clarke tried to reassure her.

"But if he does make it to the ground, he'll answer to me," Bellamy said menacingly. "We'll protect you and your baby, you can count on that. The Ark will never hurt any of us again."

After some more discussion, Bellamy walked Callista back to her dorm, assigning Harper who was in the same building to watch out for her and report back if she saw anything worrying. Returning to the drop ship, he could tell that Clarke was still upset.

"What's wrong, Clarke? We knew this would happen eventually with the Ark's bullshit order or not," he said ruefully. Take 100 horny teenagers out of lockup and set them free with no rules and little to do, and what you got was a lot of hookups. Early on the forest around camp had been rife with rutting teens reveling in their freedom.

"If they come, and we're still here..." she shook her head, worry lines marking her forehead.

Bellamy scowled, they'd begun discussing the possibility of leaving to find a new home once they'd disabled the wristbands and before the Ark sent down their drop ships. Without the wristbands, the Ark wouldn't be able to track them and they'd be free to live as they wanted. Bellamy wasn't sure how he felt about the idea, and Clarke also had reservations. "Then we'll deal with it, bide our time until we can either take over or take off."

Clarke took a deep calming breath. "If this is the first generation of ours born on Earth in a hundred years, do you really think they're going to let us raise them? The babies? If they're only bringing 500 people, they're probably counting on us being their labor force, not stay at home moms," Clarke gave voice to her worries.

"They'd... of course they would take the babies off of us." He looked angry that he hadn't considered that. "We won't let it happen, Clarke. Our plan is working-"

"Too slowly-" she disagreed.

"We have five months. We have time. We can't leave until the weather warms up anyway," he reasoned. "It's your plan, you should trust it."

"I hate them, I hate them so much," Clarke said, her hand clenching into fists.

Bellamy took her hands in his, kissing each one before placing them on his shoulders. "So do I. But we're going to beat them Clarke, we're going to survive and we're going to live free." He sounded confident, wanting her to believe it, but he wasn't blind to the potential problems.

They would need to have a safe place to go. They would need to carry everything with them or chance finding what they needed once they got to their new home. The timing would be dependent on the weather, but the latest they could safely stay was two weeks before the drop ships were set to come down. They'd need the time to make a good distance with several girls possibly heavily pregnant by then. It didn't leave much room for error.

"Octavia," Clark asked tentatively, not sure if she wanted to know.

"A guard tried with her. She punched him in the face and nearly bit his dick off. They sent her to solitary for two weeks and transferred him out." He sounded equal parts proud and disgusted and she could see the anger still simmering in his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Bellamy."

"It's not your fault. I was a cadet and I had no idea that that went on. There was nothing you could have done, no way you could have known."

Clarke blinked back her tears. No, she hadn't known, would have been powerless to help anyone even if she had known, but there was no way her mother hadn't known. Clarke pressed her face into Bellamy's neck, letting his hands soothe her, running gently up and down her back. She was becoming more and more aware that she didn't know her mother at all.

While that was personally a problem for Clarke, it was also a problem for the rest of The 100. If the Ark's lead doctor, a person charged with saving lives and widely regarded as the most humane and egalitarian of the Council was so morally compromised, then what did that say for the rest of the Ark's leadership?

If she had thought there was a chance for them to work with the Ark's exodus population, that chance was now gone. How many of The 100 had been victims of an unfair system on the Ark, and how many had been victimized a second time while in lockup. Power imbalances bread abuse, and there was no way Clarke wanted to subject her people to that again.

They'd be better of striking out on their own and taking their chances with the dangers the Earth posed. Despite the old saying, better the devil you knew, Clarke couldn't imagine asking The 100 to bow down to the Ark again.

-The 100—

Time passed quickly as they rapidly approached the winter solstice. On days when the weather was good, hunter/gatherer/scavenger crews went out, but those days were fewer and far between.

"Clarke!" Octavia screamed, sending the girl in demand to her feet instantly. Clarke rushed towards the drop ship entrance, expecting the worst. Outside she saw Jasper and Octavia helping a limping and bloody Monty through camp.

"What happened?" Clarke asked as soon as they had him on the table.

Jasper tried to tell the story, but was desperately out of breath from the trip back to camp through rough and muddy terrain with no idea if Grounders were pursuing them or not. "Forest… Gathering herbs for…" he said through deep gasping breaths.

"We were trying to find some more contraceptive herbs, Monty was worried we would run low before spring came, and Grounders…" Octavia filled in, her words much more steady, but her eyes filled with confusion and worry.

Raven pushed Jasper out of the way, handing Clarke her supplies. "Do you need anything else?" Raven asked anxiously. Besides Finn and Clarke, Monty was her closest friend in camp.

"Grounders attacked, we didn't even see them, they were just there. We tried to run, but-" Jasper said mournfully.

"OK, it's over. Hey Monty," Clarke said reassuringly. "The good news is the arrow went all the way through your leg."

"How is that good news?" Monty said tersely, his face white with pain.

"Trust me, it's good news," Clarke said and Raven nodded her agreement. "Now, this is going to hurt, maybe you could squeeze Jasper's hand?"

Octavia knew what was coming and took Monty's other hand, holding his arm down as Clarke tried to break off the shaft of the arrow protruding from his thigh. Monty hollered hoarsely, squeezing hard on Jasper and Octavia's hands as he tried not to move despite the pain. Jasper feel to his knees, his own face ashen, and looked at Clarke with shock widened eyes seeing that the arrow was still intact.

"I'm sorry," Clarke said, "It won't break." Clarke was wishing that Bellamy was there, he could probably snap it in half with minimal effort, but he was out hunting, as were Jones and Drew. Miller was in camp but he was squeamish at the sight of human blood.

"I'll do it," Raven said quietly. "I work with my hands, I can do this."

"You can do anything," Monty said shakily. "You're amazing."

Clarke nodded and shifted to the side, holding the arrow where it entered Monty's leg, trying to minimize his pain as much as possible.

Once the arrow was broken, Clarke removed it easily and set out to wash the wound. She made sure to get Monty to drink a cup of his most potent moonshine before she cleaned the wound, and was relieved when he slipped into a restless slumber as she finished bandaging it.

Washing her hands in a bucket of very cold water, Clarke wondered how many enemies they could face and still have a chance of surviving.

-The 100—

A few weeks later they were officially in the midst of winter. Snow that had fallen days before was still on the ground, daytime temps were barely going above freezing, and The 100 were hunkered down, staying inside as much as possible and living off the food they'd managed to store before all the plants had died or gone into hibernation and the game animals had become much more scarce.

"Damn, it's cold," Bellamy complained coming into the room they shared most nights now. Clarke looked up from her notebook that she sketched in, giving him an absent smile. She'd gotten used to having him around, and being close to him, so besides a sound of protest as he curled his arm around her a cold hand coming to rest on her stomach, she didn't react.

He saw a sketch of a face he didn't recognize. "Who's this?"

"My dad," she said softly. "I wanted to draw him before I start to forget."

"You'll never forget-"

"It's a biological fact, Bell, memories fade. I won't forget him entirely, but the details, the bump in his nose, how his smile was crooked, the way his hair fell over his forehead and he always forgot to schedule a cut until it was in his eyes…" she swallowed hard. "Those things will fade away."

"People will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel," Bellamy murmured, pressing a kiss into her hair.

"That's so true," Clarke said, her mouth quirking up into a smile. "And profound."

"I have my moments," he said, smirking at her. "But that was a quote from an Earth poet."

"I could draw your mom," she offered, turning to a fresh page. She'd been busy drawing the members of The 100 that had died, wanting a record of their lives before they moved on from the place where they'd been buried. Bellamy frowned, exhaling loudly. "Bellamy? Don't you want a picture of your mom?" Clarke asked. "I know you were close."

"We were, but… it's complicated."

"Complicated how?" She asked, not liking how he wouldn't meet her eyes and the way his body had stiffened against hers. "You can talk to me, or… you don't have to," she continued when he remained silent.

"I loved her, and I hated her," he said so quietly she had to strain to hear the words and even then she wasn't sure she'd heard correctly.

"Hated her? Why?" She wanted to know, could see how it ate at Bellamy, but his jaw had clamped shut, the muscle there that was a tell-tale sign of intense emotion for Bellamy ticked rapidly. Clarke set down her notebook, shifting onto her knees and moved so she was sitting in his lap, straddling his legs.

"She condemned us all when she had Octavia. Herself, Octavia and me. I had a secret, a life threatening secret, nearly my whole life. And Octavia, what was she supposed to do, live and die under the floor forever? How is that even a life? It was more than unfair, it was cruel. It was selfish and she forced that on us," he choked out. "I don't regret having a sister, having Octavia, I love her…"

"I know, I know you do," she soothed, moving into his arms and pressing her chest to his in an effort to offer comfort.

"It was selfish, what she did. Maybe I could have become a guard, I would have been given my own quarters, could have had friends finally, maybe even a wife," his voice grew louder as the long repressed anger inside him broke free and rose to the surface. "But what could Octavia have? What did she have to look forward to? Hidden, with only me and our mother for company until Mom died, and then living under my floor? Endangering any family I might have?"

Outside their room, Octavia stood trembling as tears ran down her cheeks silently.

Unaware of Octavia's prior eavesdropping, Clarke didn't know what to say so she stayed silent, holding Bellamy and letting him hold her. She'd never met Aurora Blake, had no idea what had motivated the woman to risk her own life as well as the life of her living child for another. Maybe she had loved Octavia's father too much to consider abortion, maybe she just had moral objections it, but what was clear was that Bellamy was not wrong, Octavia's life would have been one of seclusion and secrecy for as long as she lived. And that was barely a life at all.

Several minutes passed in silence before he spoke again. "She had Octavia's eyes, only brown. A high forehead, like mine, but her jaw was somewhere between Octavia's and mine."

Clarke eased away from Bellamy, picking up her notebook and pencil before starting to sketch the woman he described.

When the outside door to the longhouse opened, Octavia ran, pushing Jasper out of the way and fleeing across the camp. Jasper ran after her, and found her by the back wall, crouched low and shivering. He hunched down beside her.

"Octavia? You OK?"

"Yeah," she said bitterly. "I'm great."

"You don't sound great," Jasper said with a crooked smile.

"Well my life was shitty before so my definition of great might be skewed," she muttered darkly.

"You want to talk about it?"

"No," she denied. "How about you talk."

""Bout what?"

"What was it like growing up on the Ark? What was school like? And your parents? When did you meet Monty? Did you have lots of friends? What did you do for fun?"

"Wow," he laughed. "Uh, I don't remember meeting Monty, we lived on the same corridor, our mom's took turns watching us while the other worked on the fields."

"Farm station, right?"

"Yeah…"

-The 100-

They had minimal communication with the Ark since the solar panels didn't pack much juice to start with, the days were short, and snow and ice kept covering the panels. Despite that they were able to report on the three confirmed pregnancies, manufacturing four more, and relayed the news of seven more deaths (two actual), to the Council.

"We're in desperate need of supplies, food, more warm clothes and blankets… if you could just send-"

"We can't afford to send down any help or support. We'll need all the supplies we can bring when we arrive," Jaha said, and Clarke didn't have to fake her angry look.

They'd agreed, their own little council, that Clarke should convince the Ark that they were barely surviving, desperate for help, thereby hopefully lulling them into a sense of security about The 100's activities on the ground and their eventual welcoming of the Ark.

"I'm concerned at the low pregnancy rate, we'd anticipated at least half of the girls would have conceived by now," Jaha said, his brow furrowing in concern.

"Seven of 38 is outside the statistical probability," Kane added, his sharp eyes searching Clarke's face as if looking for signs of guilt.

"Seven of 31," Clarke corrected him. Seeing each of the faces of the three dead girls and the ones whose wristbands they'd removed. "We've had several deaths."

Kane stared at Clarke through the camera. "Thirty-two if you count Raven Reyes, which is a 22% pregnancy rate, which leads me to believe-"

"You're forgetting to factor in the Ark's high infertility rate-"

"That only accounts for five more girls," Kane discounted, obviously having already considered that.

Clarke smiled harshly. "But 15%, which brings our 'compliance' to 37%" she said with attitude. "I don't know what the percentages are, but if you factor malnutrition, poor health and the psychological effects of fear and stress on conception-"

"Psychological effects? You have to be kidding me."

"I don't find anything about this to be funny, Councilor Kane," Clarke said in a tone that blatantly disrespected him.

She might as well have called him an asshole for all the malice in her tone, and while Bellamy was proud of her and appreciated her fire, he worried that one day she would push them too far and even her mother's presence on the council wouldn't keep her alive. As long as she had her wristband on, her life was in danger. They'd debated hotly over whether to drain Clarke's wristband or not, but decided that she was on camera too much to risk them noticing the tampering.

"And what about you, Ms. Griffin?" Kane attacked. "Infertility has never been an issue in your family, and if one is to believe your vitals monitoring, you have had ample chances to become-"

"Marcus, please," Abby interjected.

"That's enough, Kane," Jaha broke in.

Clarke stared at the camera in disgust. She opened her mouth intent on giving them a piece of her mind despite Bellamy's nonverbal command to stay quiet, when her mother spoke.

"Clarke is correct. Malnutrition, stress and other psychological factors could depress conception rates. Add in the fact that many women find that there is a period of up to 18 months after stopping birth control before they can conceive, and the pregnancy rate is within the statistical probability."

Clarke gritted her teeth and remained silent and the council argued among themselves. Among their many statements was that if they could expect such a low conception rate that they should recalculate the drop ships' selections to include more people of child bearing age.

Clarke perked up, wondering if they'd already assigned seats, so to speak and if there was any way that they could get and use that information. Before she could come up with a way to ask, the monitor dimmed as the battery ran out.

"Well, that was interesting," Bellamy said.

-The 100—

* * *

Words 3319


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